


The Exorcism of Mulder and Scully

by admiralty



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Exorcisms, F/M, Haunted Houses, Idiots in Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s11e03 Plus One, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romantic Angst, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty
Summary: Takes place post-S11 "Plus One" (before TLAOFS): Mysterious deaths at a haunted hotel in Key West bring Mulder and Scully undercover as a married couple. Scully confronts her Catholicism head on when the possibility of demon possession arises. They also deal with the ramifications of the Plus One sex and attend a long-overdue FBI communication seminar.From a prompt by @FoxyFoxMulder: "Mulder and Scully go undercover as a married couple on a case post- Plus One." This idea has... evolved, to say the least, but it started out with this prompt so I dedicate this story to her.





	1. Chapter One

****  
**Prologue**

 

THE EXCELSIOR KEYS HOTEL

KEY WEST, FLORIDA

AUGUST 24, 1991 7:31 PM

 

His eyes opened slowly and there was only blackness and terror. He was afraid. He wasn’t sure exactly why, or of what, but the terror was real, and it was familiar.

He knew he must be in the hotel. He had to be; it was the only place that could create such fear within him. Ever since he began working here a couple years ago he’d felt it.

Cal Hodges had worked at many other establishments before, but none that were most definitely haunted. He’d never believed in ghosts before he and his wife moved to the Keys, but now… he’d seen things. He couldn’t deny the way he felt; the oppressive dread that coursed through his body whenever he was inside these walls. Outside it was better: he could think properly when he tended the lawn or replanted the petunias. But whenever he got a call to replace a doorknob or fix a leaking faucet, the fear returned.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness they darted around the room. He was lying on a bed, somewhere. His wrists were tied behind him and his feet were tied below and while he and his wife occasionally enjoyed an adventurous romp this wasn’t anything he recalled consenting to.

He could smell a faint odor of… something. It was hard to place, but somewhat familiar. Like herbs, musty and organic. He saw a silhouette approach him and a multitude of possibilities went through his mind, horrific possibilities but not one of them was what actually happened when the voice began speaking.

“From all evil, deliver us, o Lord. From all sin, from your wrath, from sudden and unprovided death, from the snares of the devil, we sinners, we beg you to hear us.”

Hodges felt water splash his face as the man drew nearer. He’d never been much of a churchgoer, but he recognized what was going on here. And he recognized the voice. His terror grew.

“Let me go!” Hodges cried. He tugged at the restraints.

“Just relax, I’m here to help you,” the voice said gently. “I’m the only one who can help you.”

“Help me with what?” Hodges asked, desperate. He hadn’t asked for help, had he? What was going on?

The man came up close to his ear.

“You got the demons,” he said. “You got ‘em in you.”

_Demons?_

His eyes widened in fear. Was any of this real? Is this what explained how he’d been feeling? The omnipresent shroud that seemed to cloak him every time he stepped foot inside this hotel?

The man put his hand on his shoulder, pressing him back, but he fought. Hodges pulled at his restraints, and either they weren’t very tight, or he was very lucky, but one of his wrists got free and he punched the man in the face. With a grunt, he went over the side of the bed, groaning pitifully.

The man didn’t get back up right away, as either age or weight precluded, and Hodges went to work on the other restraints. With a hand free, he made quick work of it, and was off the bed and out the door before the other man had even gotten up.

He hated this place, but he knew it like the back of his hand, and he tore through the hallways to the stairs, through the lobby and out the front door. There were no guests along the way, the hour the most likely reason.

He ran like his life depended upon it.

 

***

 

_This fucking place again._

The young officer pulled his police cruiser up to the front curb of the old hotel. He’d only been on the job a few months but he was starting to learn this particular establishment was a running problem for the Key West police department. He'd definitely been called out here more times than he'd like.

The place wasn’t enormous but still had a definite sense of foreboding, and he was unnerved regardless of his skepticism when it came to ghosts and spirits. He’d moved to the Keys only recently but had already seen enough weirdness to last a lifetime.

The 911 dispatcher had informed him the caller had been a panicked woman, saying her husband had been killed, but she’d hung up before giving any more information.

He stepped out of the car and started to approach the front door when he began to hear music coming from outside the building. He changed direction, heading towards the source.

To the left of the hotel stood a small maintenance shed and he could hear what sounded like the plucking mandolin strings of R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion,” but it was somewhat distorted. As he drew closer he could see it sounded that way because the radio from which the song emanated had been smashed on the ground.

He pulled out his flashlight and peered inside the shed. As he entered he noticed a drastic change in temperature; it was August in Florida and this tiny shed had no right to be so fucking cold. A chill went through his body, from the top of his head to the ends of his toes. And just when he thought he was imagining things he saw the very thing he’d come for.

He tore across back the lawn to his car and picked up his radio, frantically dialing.

“This is Officer Myers responding to a 911 call at the Excelsior Keys. Sir…“ his eyes darted back to the shed, then to the hotel. “Sir, we’ve got another one.”

 

 

 

 

**Chapter One**

 

 

SOMEWHERE ALONG I-95 

11:49 AM

PRESENT DAY

 

The landscape of I-95 flew by in a whir, and Scully shifted a bit in the passenger seat of the rented Explorer. Everything was moving so fast, too fast, not mind-numbingly slow, which was how she’d always been accustomed to things with Mulder.

They’d deposited the second rental car back in Henrico County and climbed into Mulder’s. His insistence (and her acquiescence) that they not further pollute the planet was the only thing keeping them from driving home in separate cars and avoiding their current situation entirely. Although they were doing a fine job of that anyway, sitting together now, mere inches away from one another, not uttering a word.

Road trip, business trip, X File, whatever they wanted to call it, at least it was the two of them again, doing what they did best. _Our bread and butter,_ Mulder had called it. It felt nice and familiar.

Only it had been quite some time since they’d done it with the smell of sex lingering in the car, stolen furtive glances at every mile marker, the air thick with the kind of tension they’d much sooner ignore than address. _That_ was most certainly the Mulder and Scully she remembered. _That_ was their real bread and butter.

She closed her eyes and laid back against the headrest, allowing her mind to wander to last night. And, to this morning.

And, to _again_ this morning.

It was hard not to do, impossible really, now that sex had become something she and Mulder were apparently doing again. She should have known once it happened, the floodgates would open and she’d want to do it again and again.

He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, his sleeves rolled up to the crooks of his elbows in that way he used to back when she first fell for him; that way that drove her absolutely crazy. His inescapable Mulder scent snaked around the car and underneath her nostrils, her body responding in all kinds of inconvenient ways. She felt like Pepé le Pew, the horniest cartoon character ever thrust upon polite society, and it was all she could do not to tell him to pull the car over right now.

The sex had been amazing; of course it was. And in the moment it felt like the right thing to do. But as they drew closer and closer to Washington D.C., towards the safe boundary of home, she felt less and less like it had been the right call.

What would happen when they stopped the car? Could they just get out and pretend everything was normal like they always did, even though they both knew it wasn’t? There were too many things between them, twenty five years of _stuff_ , a lot of it bad stuff that they had never confronted. She didn’t blame Mulder for that, not really; she blamed herself. She hadn’t wanted to look into the darkness anymore, so she simply stopped. Even if it meant turning her back on things they needed to discuss; things like their son, things like Mulder’s depression.

Things like their fundamental inability to communicate about any of it.

Now that they’d crossed this particular line, she worried what would happen next. What if they just continued to have sex without talking? They did that the first time around, and she regretted it. So much time lost, so much unnecessary heartache, and for what? Because they couldn’t tell each other the truth; that they’d been in love with each other for years and couldn’t speak of it out of fear, or some kind of misguided obligation?

She was afraid again, but this time it wasn’t because she feared he didn’t love her. This time she was afraid because she knew he did.

“Are you hungry, Scully? Because I sure am.”

His voice came from nowhere, an assault on her senses. That voice could do things to her she never dreamed possible; could _make_ her do things she never dreamed possible. It was a timbre he had, a specific cadence, some intonation that had the power to burrow deep inside her psyche, convincing her of almost anything. Robert Patrick Modell had nothing on Mulder.

“Yeah, I could eat,” she admitted.

He pulled off the turnpike to a roadside diner, and she felt her stomach turn in reluctant anticipation of the greasy offerings in store for her. Such an activity had been so commonplace for them over the years she felt a sensation of dejà vú come over her.

He parked the car and the silence within was deafening. She could sense his discomfort; it matched hers perfectly. He sighed loudly, then turned to her and spoke.

“Look, Scully, you haven’t said a word to me since we checked out. What’s the matter?”

She shifted again, unbuckling her seatbelt. Truthfully, she’d been mortified by the side-eye the motel manager had given them. They weren’t exactly quiet last night, _all night,_ she thought with a clandestine smile. But it only further demonstrated how powerless she’d been to her urges, how uninhibited she was when she was with Mulder.

Suddenly a greasy burger sounded like the best thing in the world. Anything to get them out of this car.

“I’m sorry, I, uh-”

“It’s _me,_ Scully.” He looked at her with raw emotion and her only thought was how much she’d missed those eyes. “Don’t let this become another thing for us that just… happened. Please.”

For some reason her memory flashed to that night in her apartment years ago when she’d given in to those same eyes, only to realize it hadn’t really been him. It was Eddie Van Blund _H_ t who wanted her that night, not Mulder. The realization of that in the moment left her feeling betrayed and confused about her own feelings. Things settled down after that and they both knew exactly what had happened, but neither ever acknowledged it. It was just… something that happened. It was the way they always dealt with their feelings for each other. It hadn’t been enough to push them forward. It never was.

They sat in silence for a minute, and her eyes met his, earnest and inquisitive. They communicated with hers in a way that said _don’t shut me out, not this time._

She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what would happen if they didn’t talk. Something that just _happened_ was exactly what this would become. She didn’t want that either, and it surprised her that he was being so forthcoming.

“It isn’t something that just happened, Mulder,” she sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of, to be honest.”

There it was: brutal honesty. It was refreshing.

Mulder looked taken aback, but impressed. It was as if he’d been waiting for permission to reveal a little bit, too. 

“Okay, then. That’s a start.”

He looked at her for a moment and she could tell he wasn’t struggling with this the same way she was. He appeared confident, sure of what he was saying. And he didn’t want her to get away with her usual brand of silence. It was so unlike him, so new. She liked it, but she wasn’t prepared for any of this. She hadn’t planned to sleep with him, but it happened all the same.

“What are you afraid of, Scully?”

She paused, then spoke. “I’m afraid… of this tidal wave I can see in the distance, coming for me fast, and taking me out. And I’m afraid I’m not ready for it, Mulder.”

It was the most honest she’d been with him in a while. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to get back together with him. She didn’t know if things would be better this time around, she honestly didn’t. And she was terrified of hurting him, of breaking his heart again. But she also knew deep down that being apart from him wasn’t right, either. She felt the connection to him still, in her bones. It had never gone away.

He nodded, looking right at her, like he could see into her soul. Like he always did, no matter which particular high or low they were riding. He reached over and took her hand, which wasn’t typically a big deal for them, and especially shouldn’t _feel_ big after what they’d done mere hours ago.

Three times.

“Okay, I get it. A wave.” He covered her hand with his other one. “Is it too much for me to ask... that you at least don’t run this time?”

She looked at him with affection, surprised by his maturity. Who was this Fox Mulder sitting next to her, pleading with her to give them a second chance? Where was he years ago, when she needed him?

She shook her head, slowly. “No, it’s not too much to ask.”

“So… let’s just regroup, okay? Can we do that?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be good.”

“What happens in the field stays in the field?” he grinned, an eyebrow rising up high.

She smiled, accepting these terms he seemed to be laying out. Maybe some rules were a good idea. “Yeah, I think that’s probably wise.”

His lips curved into the smile that was her moon, her stars, her truth; everything they’d ever searched for together. Maybe he’d always be looking for something but she’d found it in him a long time ago. She was done looking. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was their whole problem in the first place.

She found herself falling back into that smile, the way she always had. She was powerless to his effect on her, and part of her hated herself for that. She knew it was the reason she kept her distance from him all these years. But the other part of her could only respond to the effect. She was still human, after all.

“Hey, Mulder.” She put her hand on his thigh to stop him as he went for the car door.

“Yeah?”

“We’re… technically still in the field, aren’t we?”

He pulled his hand away from the door, looking intently at her. She searched his eyes and saw the desire within them; she wouldn’t have expected otherwise. But this was new territory for them as a couple, or non-couple, or whatever the fuck they were anymore. Seeking permission, sending and reading signals. They hadn’t done this in ages.

Her eyes told him what she wanted, though, and his eyes said the same, and suddenly they were entwined again, a console between them the only wall in this moment left to break down. His lips met hers with the hunger he’d recently expressed, only instead of greasy food they devoured her, again, and despite her apprehensions she let him in, again.

Inside a rental car in broad daylight wasn’t an ideal sexual scenario but her need for him had been reawakened, and just as it was before everything went to shit, she felt the same feeling, the same magnetism that drew them together from the day they entered each other’s lives. It was a truth she couldn’t deny, and certainly wouldn’t now, her tongue gliding along his bottom lip, his hands delving underneath her shirt.

She was out of her own body, like the evil twin she’d seen mere hours ago. The twin was back, thinking and doing things she knew she shouldn’t be, and it felt so real she wondered if in fact she’d given that particular paranormal possibility enough consideration.

She decided to go with it. Blaming her evil twin sounded like a great way to fuck Mulder whenever she felt like it.

He lowered the seat until it laid flat, this particular routine perfected while they’d spent all those months on the run years and years ago. It felt like another lifetime, another Mulder, another Scully. But it made her feel alive again, remembering how intense those times had been, how much they’d relied on one another. When there was literally nothing else in her life that mattered the way he did.

There wasn’t anyone in the parking lot and the car was situated around the corner of the restaurant. No one witnessed the tryst taking place just outside an establishment with a single cash register, tattered vinyl booths and a twenty year old grill. Broken down and worn out, it had seen its share of shit, but still nowhere near what Agents Mulder and Scully had been through.

Pushing his chest backwards, she unzipped his pants, inside them seeking the relief she craved. And as she felt him fill her for the fourth time in about as many hours she wanted to cry, she missed this so much.

_This is fine, this is okay,_ she tried to convince herself as she rocked against him, her desire for him only increasing with each time they gave in. _We aren’t home yet._

_We aren’t home yet._

They weren’t, not even close. But she wanted to go home, she wanted to, desperately.

She threw her head back and moaned his name, a plaintive cry of yearning she’d suppressed for years, now erupting with abandon in the hollow shell of this rented SUV. He pulled her in again, whispering her own name roughly in her ear, his hands entangling in her hair, disappearing along with their inhibitions.

After she came and he came and the moment was over, she laid spent across his chest, sweat dripping everywhere. She felt an untenable sense of guilt and shame for some reason. She wished it away but it remained. Several minutes seemed to go by and they said nothing, only their breathing audible. She was keenly aware he was waiting for her to speak, so she did.

“Mulder, I-”

“It’s okay, Scully… I get it.” He held her against him and she felt his heart beating through his chest, his hand softly stroking her hair, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to her crown.

She wondered if he really did get it, if he _got_ how much she fucking loved him, how much she wanted this to work out. How hard she’d tried when he hadn’t seemed to try at all. She wondered if he was really ready to try again. And she wondered if this was all a terrible mistake.

His phone buzzed in the cup holder and he reached down to look at it.

“Shit. We have a new case. Meeting with Skinner at 1:30.”

“Are we even going to have time to go home first?” she asked, concerned. Then again, it was their own fault they hadn’t checked out on time. Skinner wasn’t privy to their activities. He probably assumed they were back by now.

“Probably not, no thanks to you,” he grinned, giving her backside a soft slap.

She knew he was just being playful but it occurred to her all the sex that took place over the past few hours she had been the one to initiate. She suddenly felt embarrassed of how unable she was to control her own impulses around him. Sitting up on his lap, she started buttoning her shirt, looking around the parking lot for onlookers, finding none, thankfully.

“Let’s go eat, Mulder.”

“Scully, I was kidding.”

“I know,” she interjected sharply, not wanting him to have the upper hand anymore. “Let’s go eat.”

The sooner they got out of this car the sooner she could refocus on pretending nothing happened in the first place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To read my take on the Plus One sex, you can go [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810795/chapters/39093007) Not required reading, but if you're in the mood for some smut ;)
> 
> (I'm not sure why this end note is showing up after every chapter, maybe an A03 glitch?)


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner briefs our agents on the case.
> 
> "He looked between the two of them, questions in his face. The extent of Skinner’s knowledge of where their relationship stood was unknown to Mulder, and he inwardly rolled his eyes at that very thought since he himself had no idea where their relationship stood."

 

FBI HEADQUARTERS

WASHINGTON, D.C.

1:34 PM

 

“You two care to explain yourselves?”

Skinner asked the question in that all-too-familiar gruff tone. Typically Mulder knew what his boss was pissed about, in fact he expected it, but this time he was at a loss. They’d done a good job this time. Albeit inadvertently, they’d solved the Henrico County case.

“Sir?”

Skinner held out the expense report from the St. Rachel Motel that Scully hastily completed in the basement before they hustled up to make their meeting. Mulder eyed it, but couldn’t figure out why there was a problem. They’d fudged the paperwork to hide the late checkout charge, having covering it themselves.

“Twenty five years of you two in the field and I’ve never gotten a call from a motel manager to report property damage. Noise complaints. Not to mention a late checkout fee.”

The manager tattled on them? _Really?_

“Damage, sir?” Scully asked in a small voice. Mulder searched his memory. They hadn’t damaged anything, had they?

“Something about a pull-out sofa?”

_Oh._

“And a headboard.”

_Oof._

Mulder’s eyes darted to Scully, who was looking intently at the desk. No one said a word for ten full seconds.

“Look, I’m not interested in your extracurricular activities, alright?” Skinner groused. “Let’s just make sure they aren’t happening on the government’s dime.”

Scully finally lifted her head to look at their boss. “It won’t happen again, sir,” she said simply.

He looked between the two of them, questions in his face. The extent of Skinner’s knowledge of where their relationship stood was unknown to Mulder, and he inwardly rolled his eyes at that very thought since he himself had no idea where their relationship stood. He’d tried to put her at ease on their ride back, tried to communicate to her that he was willing to take a step forward, figure out what was going on. But what happened on that pull-out couch had propelled them ahead quicker than he’d been prepared for.

The sex part of their relationship was easy for them, it always had been. The other stuff… well, they definitely had work to do. His “what happens in the field stays in the field” comment had been a stopgap in his mind, to keep the distractions of the sex separate from the emotional stuff they had to work on. He knew they could only do that from a comfortable distance.

But Scully had obviously not taken his words that way. He could tell that much from the way she’d jumped him in the car, desperate to have one more go before the boundary of home and familiarity was crossed. Boundaries didn’t really work this time; sweat still stained the collar of his shirt, the scent of sex was still all over them. He wasn’t complaining, certainly. But she’d interpreted what he’d said as yet another boundary, another rule. Just a game.

He wanted to tell her this wasn’t a game, not to him. He wanted to tell her how he felt but he still wasn’t sure how receptive she would be to such overtures, especially after she left him the way she did. His heart could only take so much.

An image came into his mind of her tortured face on that fateful morning when she kissed him goodbye forever and drove away down the dirt path of their unremarkable house, birds chirping outside in the trees. Life had been impossible after that, and the only thing that kept him going, as usual, was his search for answers. Only this time the questions he sought answers to were

_Why?_

_How could this happen?_

_How could I have let this happen?_

He’d forgiven himself at some point, and he supposed that was the point he started believing she might forgive him someday, too. He’d changed, in the way he knew he needed to, the way she needed him to. But he couldn’t tell her that; this was Scully, after all. She’d have to see it for herself.

 _Distance,_ he told himself, a mantra he needed. Being close to her these past several months since they ended up back on the X Files together had been wonderful, but also more difficult than he cared to admit. It was hard for him to pretend his feelings for her weren’t still as strong as they’d always been. Last night was the first real sign she’d given him that she might be open to trying again, but this was going to have to be on her terms.

So until then: _distance_. Whatever distance they could get.

“We’re sending you two on an undercover case together,” Skinner said.

_Great._

“Undercover, sir?” Scully asked. There was nervousness in her voice, probably expecting what was coming next.

“It’s not really our jurisdiction, but the local PD on the case requested your help. You’re also the only married couple in the building and they want this to be as convincing as possible, for safety’s sake.”

“Married?” Mulder asked. “But sir, we… I mean, we’re not…”

He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. They _were_ still legally married, they had been since 2008 and the FBI knew it. But none of them could possibly have known the intricacies they were dealing with; the fragile state of things. He and Scully were barely starting to redefine their relationship to each other. He had no clue how to define it for someone else.

“You are now,” Skinner said in his no-nonsense voice.

Mulder looked over at Scully and he couldn’t quite read her expression. Enigmatic, as always. He chewed on his lip as Skinner explained.

“We have three sudden deaths, they took place in a hotel in Key West within the same week. They could be accidents or even suicides but law enforcement suspects foul play.” He handed Mulder the case file and he flipped through it. The victims died under mysterious circumstances. He handed to files to Scully, who perused them herself.

“Looks like the bodies were autopsied, but no precise cause of death could be determined. My first assumption would be an aneurism or heart attack,” Scully suggested as she leafed through the file. “But then I suppose this case wouldn’t have made it all the way to us, would it? Why is this an X file, if I may ask?”

“Because of the... nature of this… establishment.” Skinner said carefully.

“Sir?” she asked.

“Well, it’s…” Skinner removed his glasses and sighed deeply. “This particular hotel is known to be haunted. Or… something like that.”

Mulder grinned and slowly turned to look at Scully, who had a nonplussed expression on her face.

“A haunted house, sir?” Scully asked, incredulously. “Really?”

“It’s a hotel,” Skinner said flatly.

“Couldn’t this just be three simple deaths?” she offered. “Unrelated to the paranormal?”

“Could be,” Skinner agreed. “But circumstances suggest otherwise. And like I said, you two have been requested.”

“Why the undercover element?” Mulder asked. Nothing Skinner said led him to believe subterfuge was necessary.

“We have reason to believe it could be an inside job. Wouldn’t want the hotel proprietors to know a couple of FBI agents are hanging around.”

“You think the owners of the hotel are responsible?” Scully asked.

Skinner shrugged. “The local PD is suspicious. We’re exploring it as an option. The haunted nature of this hotel has been a goldmine for them in terms of publicity.”

“I doubt dead tourists are a huge draw,” Mulder pointed out.

“You’d be surprised what these ghost-hunting types would risk just to get a glimpse,” Skinner replied.

Mulder smiled. “No, sir, actually I wouldn’t be surprised at all.”

Skinner pulled out their new IDs and backstories. “Here are your new identities for the next few days. You’re Darrin and Samantha Peterson.”

Scully leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Darrin and Samantha? Really? Whose idea was this?”

“Kersh,” Skinner shrugged. “Closeted _Bewitched_ fan, I guess.”

“Um. Samantha?” Mulder asked uneasily. “Any way we can… change that one?”

Skinner looked at him in confusion, then understanding crossed his face. “Oh. Um…” he looked at Scully, who was nodding her head.

“Elizabeth,” she decided. “You know, Elizabeth Montgomery. May as well keep with the theme.”

Skinner looked at her blankly.

“Hey, I used to watch it too,” she said.

“Can I be Dick, then?” Mulder asked delightedly, looking at Scully.

“York or Sargent?” she asked.

“No preference.”

“Enough,” Skinner said. “You’re Darrin and Elizabeth. I’ll get this changed for you before you leave. Flight leaves at five out of Washington National.”

Scully and Mulder shared a secret smile and looked back at their boss, at attention once more.

“You’ll be in contact with the local PD, but obviously under intense discretion.” They were about to get up when Skinner spoke again. “One more thing. I have on both your records a missing communications seminar, from 1998, believe it or not. The Bureau has been lax on these matters over the years, but due to the heightened attention to interpersonal relationships within the workplace lately, it’s become a requirement.”

Mulder eyed her, and she eyed him back.

“When? Where?” Scully asked.

“I’ve arranged for the seminar to take place while you’re on assignment. Someone from the Miami field office will be meeting with you.”

Scully made a noise that Mulder couldn’t identify, but it sounded like a quick exhale. Satisfaction, maybe? Relief? A communication seminar sounded so mundane, so simple. But maybe it might actually help them. Maybe it was exactly what they needed. They’d needed it then, and they needed it now.

Scully stood without another word or glance in either man’s direction and exited Skinner’s office. Mulder watched her go, then turned back to Skinner, who placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and buried himself in his paperwork. Mulder wasn’t sure what to say, but for some reason couldn’t maneuver himself out of his chair.

“That’ll be all, Agent Mulder,” Skinner said without looking up.

“Will it?” Mulder asked. He wasn’t exactly sure what the best way to broach this topic would be, but someone had to say it.

“You have something you need to tell me?”

“What the hell is this, sir?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Skinner stopped his paperwork and looked up, slowly.

“Excuse me?”

Mulder looked him right in the eyes. “This. This _assignment_ , sir, what exactly is this?”

“It’s an undercover assignment that’s been given to you by Deputy Director Kersh, I’m sure you’re well aware of how this process works by now.” Skinner busied himself again with his papers.

Mulder couldn’t help but wonder if the assignment was bogus. There wasn’t much information to go on, and what information they did have was hardly enough to warrant their presence, much less an undercover presence. Not to mention he’d been looking forward to that bit of distance he’d just been thinking about; not getting immediately thrown back onto another X file with Scully when they hadn’t properly discussed what was going on between them.

“I, uh…” Mulder trailed off. It wasn’t as if Skinner was unaware of the nature of his and Scully’s relationship. Skinner hadn’t seen much of either of them for years, and was visibly disappointed when Mulder had informed him they’d separated. Mulder wouldn’t soon forget the look on Skinner’s face when he told him; it was that of a wounded puppy, as if he and Scully symbolized some unassailable force, an unbreakable united front. Mulder had always thought the same. Seeing Skinner so upset had nearly broken his heart all over again. Not to mention there was a bit of tension between the three of them at the moment for other, more personal reasons.

“Scully and I, as you know, sir… we’ve had a rough few years.”

Skinner didn’t look up.

Mulder exhaled. _Distance_ , he thought. “This is awkward, I’m sorry. It just occurred to me how rarely I’ve asked to be removed from an assignment but I think… now is not the best time for this… for us. Couldn’t you find another pair of agents for this one?”

Skinner looked at him. “You’ve been working just fine together these past several months.”

“I know. I know, we have. And I think we’re in a good place right now, actually. It’s just…” Mulder’s eyes darted around the room. He would sink into the floor if he could. “This undercover thing, living together again, even if it’s just for an assignment. It’s going to be really uncomfortable for both of us.”

He didn’t want to tell Skinner it was also not out of the realm of possibility he’d be receiving more noise and property damage complaints.

“Agent Mulder, if you have a problem with your assignment you can take it up with Deputy Director Kersh. Maybe he’ll be a bit more understanding.”

Mulder looked at him, gobsmacked. Skinner truly wasn’t going to let them off the hook. And he knew Mulder would never take this to Kersh.

Skinner adjusted his glasses. “Agent Mulder, if I may be so bold, I think you should take this as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity, sir?”

“To solidify your partnership.”

Mulder’s eyes narrowed. Skinner had always been somewhat astute, but what exactly was he implying? Mulder just looked at him, and Skinner looked right back.

“Sir?”

“ _Solidify_. Your _partnership_. With _Agent Scully_.” He enunciated the words as if he were speaking to a three year old. Maybe he was.

“I see.”

As Skinner looked back down at his paperwork, Mulder saw what he was certain was a tiny smile on his lips.

_That motherfucker. He’s doing this on purpose._

“Sir, you wouldn’t have anything… untoward up your sleeve, would you?”

“There are deaths we need to get to the bottom of, Agent Mulder,” he said into his desk. “Let’s keep our eye on the ball, okay?”

Mulder sighed and got up, heading towards the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Skinner called. Mulder turned to look at him, his hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t fuck this up, Mulder.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully do some "research," and head to Key West.
> 
> "They were both aware something was happening here. But it was she who needed to take the steps forward they required. It was she who needed to give permission- to let him in. He was already there and they both knew it."

 

 

FBI HEADQUARTERS

WASHINGTON, DC

1:47 PM

 

Scully waited for Mulder outside Skinner’s office, her mind reeling. She was nervous about this, but she couldn’t deny she was mostly excited. A chance to live with him again might be exactly what she needed to figure this whole thing out. Ever since she began to entertain the idea of getting back together with him the living situation was one of her primary concerns. She had an excuse now to try it without taking any unnecessary risks.

Not to mention this communication seminar could be good for them, really good. The entire assignment felt like a huge ruse but it didn’t matter. It was a means to an end, that end being the two of them talking to each other again. She needed this push. She knew, at the end of the day, she was still just a big fat coward.

She wondered what Mulder had stayed behind to talk to Skinner about but when he came out a couple minutes later, she didn’t ask. He held the case file with one hand, and led her away from the door by the small of her back with his other. She was amazed at how electric just a simple touch from him could still be, and flinched away from his hand in response. She immediately felt bad about it.

“Sorry,” he said, holding his hands up. “Force of habit.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s no big deal.”

They chatted about the case as they walked down to their office, not noticing the eyes on them, the questions in the air. These questions had been swirling around the Bureau for months, ever since they started back. The legend of Agents Mulder and Scully loomed large in the halls of the Hoover building, and what was fact or myth about the duo, what was truth or fiction, was still as murky and unclear to everyone as the X files themselves.

Scully excused herself to go to the restroom, and when she rejoined Mulder a few minutes later he was hanging up the basement office phone.

“That was the Key West PD,” he told her.

“What exactly do they want from us, did they say?”

“Seems like what they’re really after is some probable cause to arrest the hotel proprietors,” he explained. “I suppose that’s what we can help out with while undercover.”

“Why are they so sure these are murders? What am I missing?” Scully asked.

“I got the feeling these two have given the local PD some trouble in the past, but they wouldn’t elaborate. Possibly it’s some kind of vendetta. Worth looking into, at the very least.”

“And they can’t get them on anything at all? Nothing?”

“They haven’t been able to get anything other than some weird vibes. Those can’t get you an indictment, last I checked.”

“Maybe they can arrest some ghosts instead,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Well, historically, the Keys are a hotbed for paranormal activity. If you lived down there I’m sure even you might have a close encounter at some point, Scully,” he grinned.

“I knew you’d be excited about this one, Mulder. When Skinner mentioned ghosts I could just hear your juices start flowing.”

She grinned at him, and he smiled back, and she couldn't believe the sensations already rising within her.

_Speaking of juices..._

“Wow, Scully. Are you coming on to me?” His eyes narrowed.

”I'm pretty sure you'll know when that's happening, Mulder.”

”I don't know. You're as mysterious lately as some of these cases.”

Ignoring his comment, she took the case file from him, crossed the room and plunked herself down into his desk chair, taking ownership. Regardless of the state of their romantic situation, she knew her place in this office. She opened the file and flipped through the details.

”I'm going to gather as much information as possible on any other strange deaths or suicides in the Keys over the past few months. I think it's a good place to start.”

Mulder nodded, pursing his lips. “I think that’s a good idea.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger to his scratchy chin. She tried not to think about how good it felt between her thighs earlier this morning.  

 _Shit._ How was this going to work? How would they be able to work like this?

”I'll get some intel on the hotel owners,” Mulder suggested. ”I want to know how dangerous of a situation we are placing ourselves in.”

She looked up at him, tilting her head curiously. Bit by bit, she'd been noticing things about him that felt different. His objectives and priorities seemed more in line with where she'd always wanted them to be; on safety, first and foremost, and keeping both of them alive.

Just a couple weeks ago she’d nearly died. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence in their lives, especially while working as FBI agents, but this time it felt different, almost transformative. He saved her life, like he’d done dozens of times before, but he saved something else in that moment, too: he saved _them._

Ever since it happened she found herself night after night at their unremarkable house once more, keeping his company. They hadn’t been sexual prior to Henrico County but he’d wanted her there and she could tell. Her attack had scared him, too. He wanted her near him in a protective way, and she allowed it because she wanted to feel protected. So many years of him making her feel safe dug grooves into her soul that were hard to ignore, especially while they’d been apart.

She could tell he’d been terrified of losing her. She hadn't seen that look on his face in a long time, a very long time. Maybe not since her cancer. And back then, they hadn't yet been honest with each other about how they felt. Every look was suspect, every glance a question.

Here and now, she knew he loved her. It made everything feel so good and so nerve-wracking all at the same time.

Scully took her coat off the coat rack and headed towards the door. If they were going to make their flight, she had to get to her place and pack. Mulder crossed the room to the computer and began typing.

"You gonna go home and pack, Mulder?"

He didn't look up. "Yeah, just gonna need a few more minutes here."

"Okay," she said. "I'll see you at the airport." 

"Mm-hmm," he said, still looking at the monitor.

Watching him working calmed her for some reason. It was nice seeing him in his element, focused on something worthwhile again. He'd spent so many years stuck in a seemingly endless loop of idleness which had only exacerbated his obsession and led to further isolation. Seeing him grounded again reminded her of the way he used to be; the way they used to be together.

She suddenly felt the urge to clear the air, as much as she could. If they were headed into this intimate of a situation, she wanted to make sure they were really on the same page. She wouldn't be able to focus on the work until she did so.

”Hey, Mulder.”

He looked up. ”Uh huh?”

She walked over to the other side of the basement where he was bent over the computer and stood directly in front of him. She didn’t know what she wanted from him yet, what she wanted from _them_. But she knew what she wanted from herself, and that was honesty and bravery. There was no better time to start than the present.

”I want you to know … I guess, I need you to know… that what happened last night...?”

“...And this morning...?” he grinned.

She smiled and looked at the floor, then back up at him. ”Yes. Well, I'm glad it did. I don't think it was something that just happened. And I wouldn't change it for the world. I just… need you to know that. Okay?”

He nodded again, smiling. “Okay.”

“Okay, then,” she said, suddenly nervous.

“I feel the same way, Scully,” he said, and her heart leapt into her throat. “It was… amazing. Just like it used to be.” He was gazing at her with stars in his eyes. She knew that look and understood it; it was the look that had no ulterior motive. Just the one that meant he loved her.

“Yeah… it was amazing,” she agreed. He’d made her come half a dozen times in the past twelve hours. She was in no position to refute that.

They were both aware something was happening here. But it was she who needed to take the steps forward they required. It was she who needed to give permission- to let him in. He was already there and they both knew it.

With that in mind, she stepped closer to him. She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, all she knew was why. Being near him was slowly becoming a primal need inside her again, like breathing or eating. He was her whole world, he was her everything. She only had to convince herself she was ready for all of this again.

He reached out to hold her waist, and she let him reel her in like a fish, helpless and hungry. Before she knew what was happening, he stood, and her hand was behind his neck and she was rising up on her tiptoes, kissing him again in a way she knew she shouldn't be allowed to anymore.

Her lips parted to his first, her tongue oh-so-slowly pleading with his to let this happen, let her have this. It was selfish and she hated leading him on this way when she wasn't ready to go all in again. She hated herself for that, but _oh_ … how she loved _him;_  how she loved _this_.

In the quiet hollow their mouths created there were no secrets; their tongues told one another what their voices weren't saying. Her stomach clenched and for a fleeting moment she felt perfectly safe and protected again, as if she could stay here with him right now and nothing could possibly tear them apart again.

The old Mulder might take this kiss as an invitation to push forward, to tear her clothes off and push her back down onto the desk, fuck her until her eyeballs popped and her screams of pleasure bounced around within the walls of the office. That old Mulder would be most welcomed in this moment, she thought to herself, as memories of doing just that violently invaded her mind and her other places. But this new Mulder, this unfathomable specimen before her, didn't do that. He kept his eyes closed and gently held her cheek with one hand, his other at her waist, simply living in this kiss, The Kiss, this one right now that meant more than any of the kisses that preceded it for that precise reason: because it was happening right now. 

Her hands went to his face, wanting to feel his scratchy stubble, his familiar texture, wanting to prove to herself this was in fact her Mulder and not some alien replicant sent to trick her into taking him back. She hadn't asked him to change, or to grow, but he’d been quietly doing it by himself all these years anyway. She couldn’t deny he seemed to be ready to show her and she was certainly ready and willing to hear him again.

Their mouths and lips and tongues danced in that familiar way she loved, a dance she thought she'd forgotten. He pulled her into him so gently, and took one of her hands in his, pulling it close to his heart. They _were_ dancing, she realized. There was no music, there was no rhythm, but she was vaguely aware they were swaying ever so slightly together, in sync once more. She knew what was happening, and she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to.

She was falling in love with him all over again.

 

FLIGHT 1219

5:37 PM

 

Flying had always been Scully’s least favorite part about being an FBI agent. She’d almost forgotten how much she hated it over the years. Travel since she left the Bureau the first time had been rare, with the exception of the time Mulder took her on vacation to the Maldives after he’d been cleared of his charges. It was eighteen hours of planes and airports and by the time they arrived she was so stressed out she almost wished they’d never gone at all. But she’d told him she wanted to get as far away from the darkness as they possibly could. He’d taken her comment literally, pulled out a globe, and found the furthest spot from where they lived. It was romantic as hell, so she went with it. That was back in the day, when she would have let him take her anywhere.

It was also where he asked her to marry him, for about the dozenth time. And it was where she finally said yes. They were happy, truly, for a long time after that. She wondered now if it had been naïveté, or if it had just been love. Maybe it was both. But he’d swept her away and she allowed it.

It suddenly occurred to her they hadn’t been anywhere resembling a tropical climate since then. And here they were, headed to the Keys. She even packed her bathing suit. Why did she do that? _Gotta keep up appearances,_ she’d told herself, before a vivid memory of skinny dipping with Mulder in the Indian Ocean at midnight entered her brain. She tried to banish the thought, but not hard enough. It remained, and she smiled in spite of herself.

At least they were flying first class. Funny; in all the years they’d been FBI agents they’d never gone first class. Skinner had arranged it and she hadn’t questioned it. It was making the flight far more tolerable.

She twisted her head against the headrest to look at Mulder, fiddling with a bag of pretzels. With a decisive rip, the bag opened and pretzels flew everywhere. He grimaced and unbuckled his seatbelt to pick them up. She raised an eyebrow.

“Mulder, if you wait a little bit they’ll bring you something better.” She didn’t know much about first class but she knew there would be more than pretzels on the menu.

“I know, I’m just… hungry. I packed my seeds in my suitcase by accident.”

She leaned down, unzipped her carry-on and handed him a bag of sunflower seeds.

“You... are the best wife ever.” He grinned and took them, tearing the bag open with his teeth and offering her a handful. She declined, wondering where on earth he planned to spit the shells. She never really understood his infatuation with sunflower seeds. Too much work for such a small reward. But she did love how much he loved them; and that no matter what changed, some things always stayed the same.

She also loved how they made his mouth taste. Salty, familiar, wonderful. _Mulder_. Suddenly she was overcome with the desire to kiss him again. They were technically on the clock, posing as a married couple. She could do it and get away with it.

The evil twin was taking over again.

She leaned over slightly and took his tie in her hand, the cool silk comforting. Before he could protest, as if he would protest, she pulled and he took the cue, his lips touching hers softly. Her eyes closed but she kept it short, almost a peck. Testing the waters.

Her eyes opened and she expected to see either surprise or smug satisfaction, but she saw neither. He just gazed at her and smiled, his adoration brazenly obvious. Taken off guard by his utter transparency, she retreated a bit.

“So… I guess we’re married now,” she said with the smallest hint of a smile.

“Imagine that,” he replied, not taking his eyes off hers. “Looks like I landed myself a catch.”

She rolled her eyes. Flattery was really not her goal, and hardly necessary. But she appreciated it all the same.

“Do you know anything about Key West’s haunted history, Scully?” he asked, and she was grateful for the subject change.

“Not much, other than there’s some creepy possessed doll somewhere.”

“Ah, yes. Robert the doll. Apparently he belonged to a small child who blamed everything bad that happened on the doll. His parents reported seeing the doll speak and witnessing his expression change. They’d hear him laughing or see him running up the stairs or staring out the upstairs window.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Staring _creepily_ , Scully,” he amended. “Very creepily.”

“You mean, like Chucky?” she winked.

“Actually, yes. Robert the doll started those modern talking doll horror legends. He was one of the first.”

She nodded. “What else?”

“The reports of ghosts and various hauntings all over Key West date back to the early Spanish settlers. They say that the island was littered with bones, which were the remains of earlier native inhabitants who used the island as a communal graveyard.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“There’s also a bar there, said to be haunted by the Lady in Blue. She was hung outside from a tree for murdering her two sons and husband.”

“Wow, Mulder,” she said. “I wish I could say I’m impressed but I knew you’d be prepared.”

“What about you, learn anything interesting?”

“Yes, actually,” she said. “I was looking into strange deaths over the past few months and, other than these three, I didn’t see any. So… I kept digging.”

“And?”

“Nine people have died at the Excelsior Keys over the past thirty years, Mulder.”

His surprise was evident. “Wait, nine? I wonder why the chief didn’t mention those?”

She shrugged. “Maybe they were before his time? I’m not sure. But check these out.” She handed him the reports. “Nine sudden deaths over the past thirty years, the police completely stymied. Similar circumstances, not enough evidence to make any arrests.”

“Who were the victims?” he asked.

“Eight were tourists and one was a maintenance worker. Dating all the way back to 1988.”

Mulder flipped through the reports. “Before the X files started,” he noted. “I wonder why these weren’t sent to us. Maybe the police have an interest in tourism, too.”

Scully shrugged. “Well, we’re on our way now, Mulder,” she pointed out. 

"Did you say 1988?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I didn't find much information on our suspects, but I did learn they bought the hotel in 1988, interestingly enough."

"That _is_ interesting."

The plane lurched for a moment and Scully instinctively grabbed his hand, closing her eyes and tightening her seat belt. He squeezed back reassuringly and came right up next to her ear, speaking in that low voice that made her insides tingle.

“Think we’ll see any ghosts, Scully?”

She knew he was only trying to distract her from the turbulence, as he did on all their flights. She sighed and relaxed into the chair, allowing herself to feel safe. When he was around her, it was difficult not to think of the past.

There were definitely going to be ghosts present on this case, just not necessarily the haunted-house type.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully arrive at the Excelsior Keys Hotel, meet their suspects, and begin their undercover assignment in earnest.
> 
>  
> 
> "Neither of them had discussed the sleeping arrangements because neither of them knew what to expect at this place. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, but sharing the bed didn’t seem unlikely. He assumed after last time she wouldn’t balk at the mere suggestion, at least. And they were portraying a married couple. Years and years ago at Arcadia Falls it felt inappropriate and too intimate because they’d never done it before. Now, sleeping in the same bed was something they’d done more often than not."

 

EXCELSIOR KEYS HOTEL

KEY WEST, FLORIDA

8:46 PM

 

The air was thinner than Mulder expected, the usual sticky Florida heat on holiday during January. It felt pleasant, not terribly hot, especially considering the sun had already set.

He and Scully entered the Excelsior Keys Hotel and he was immediately struck by how old it seemed. The main lobby was tiny, the furnishings ancient. Thick drapery, brass railings on the staircase, and small knick knacks and statues of just about everything under the sun adorned marble tables. It smelled musty in the way most old buildings might. The windows were wide open however, letting in the breeze, and he thought to himself how nice it would have been to just be here on vacation with Scully, not undercover with Elizabeth Petersen.

He turned around, taking in his surroundings. There was a large plaque situated above the front door on the inside and he nudged Scully. It read _James 4:7._

“What’s James 4:7?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Bible stuff is more your realm, isn’t it?”

“I’m not nearly as well-versed in it as I probably should be,” she admitted. She pulled out her phone and typed it in, then read. “ _Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”_

“Not exactly rolling out the welcome wagon, are they?" Mulder noted. "I prefer Ezekiel 23:20, myself.”

Scully raised an eyebrow. “You? A bible verse?”

“I’ve always been partial to it,” he grinned. She pulled out her phone, typed it in, then gave him a familiar look of exasperation.

“You’re gross, Mulder.”

He grinned but eyed her, reminding her they were officially undercover now, and she nodded quickly. Luckily, there was no one around.

Scully looked around. "Doesn't seem like they've updated or renovated this place in... well, ever."

Mulder shrugged. "It must be all part of the allure. I'm sure people come here specifically for this type of experience."

They turned to check in, and as they approached the bell desk a man and woman were suddenly there. Mulder wondered where they came from, as he was certain there was no one in the room a second ago.

The man was stout and wore a turtleneck and corduroy pants, which Mulder noted was an odd choice for a Florida resident, even in January. The woman was the same height and build, and wore an apron over her clothing. They looked very much alike and Mulder wondered if they were siblings, or twins, even. _Two twin cases in a row? Talk about an X file._

“Welcome to the Keys,” the man said. “I’m Roman Fallbrook, and this is my beautiful wife Margie.”

He gestured towards the woman who, essentially a female version of Roman, Mulder wouldn’t have necessarily described in such a manner. But his expression did not betray his thoughts and he nodded and smiled at her, cognizant of Roman’s obvious affection for her.

“I’m Darrin Petersen and this is _my_ beautiful wife, Elizabeth,” Mulder said proudly, pulling her in next to him. Scully nodded and waved politely.

“Where are youse folks comin’ from?” Margie said in a folksy accent as Scully signed their undercover names into the guest book.

“Boston,” Mulder said. “Just wanted to get away, you know? Plus, Liz here just loves all the creepy haunted stuff around here, she signed us up for all those tours and everything.”

 _This was fun the first time,_ he thought. _Why not make it fun again?_

“Oh, yeah?” Roman asked her. His accent was strange, Mulder couldn’t place it. And he also appeared to have a lazy eye. “You believe in ghosts, miss?”

Scully eyed Mulder but played along. “Oh yes. There are ghosts everywhere.”

“You know we got ghosts in this here hotel?” Margie piped up. “Some people say they see them aaaaall around.” Her eyes widened and it appeared like she was putting on a show. Mulder assumed this was all part of it, this was the allure of this particular hotel. These two seemed intent on giving their guests an experience.

“The Excelsior Keys is the best of the best,” she continued. “We’re on the top ten lists in just about all the tourist books.” She gestured to the wall behind her where there were awards and plaques, tourism magazine covers framed and displayed proudly.

“Looks like we’re in for a treat, eh, Liz?” Mulder squeezed her tighter. He certainly was already getting a kick out of this. They were here for a reason, though.

“We heard people have died in this hotel,” Scully said. “The ghosts here may not be so friendly. Is that true?”

“No no no no no,” Margie said quickly, retrieving an obscenely old looking bell cart. It creaked as it rolled and there were actual cobwebs on it. “Those people were sick. Sick!”

Mulder studied the couple carefully as they answered. Definite avoidance, definite shiftiness. He wasn’t surprised at all the police had found them suspicious.

“All sick, all of them,” Margie said, looking Scully square in the eye. “Didn’t know until it was too late. Couldn’t get a doctor in time.”

“All of them?” Scully asked, finding an opening. “Exactly how many people have died here?”

Margie shook her head, covering. She was bad at it. “Not too many, don’t you two worry about nothing.”

Roman was eyeing Mulder as he took their two suitcases out of Mulder’s hands and set them onto the very unnecessary cart. “You two ain’t sick, are you?”

Mulder looked at Scully, opening his mouth, closing it. “I don’t… think so? Liz? You feeling okay today?”

“I feel fine,” Scully replied pleasantly. They exchanged a look. These people were fucking weird.

Roman started to push the bell cart towards an elevator that looked entirely too small to accomodate the cart alone, let alone the cart and three people.

“That’s really not necessary,” Mulder said of the bell cart. “I can handle those.” He hated tipping when he was perfectly capable of carrying his own bag.

Scully snorted. He looked at her sharply. She raised her hand and shook her head at Roman and Margie. “We’re just fine, thanks.” She went to pick up her bag but Mulder took it, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I’ve got that, honey,” he smiled. She rolled her eyes.

“You two are on the second floor, room one. Just up those there stairs on your left,” Roman gestured.

“Thank you,” Mulder nodded.

“Have a pleasant stay and please enjoy the amenities!” Roman shouted after them as they walked away. He didn’t elaborate on what amenities he was referring to.

After they were out of earshot, Mulder leaned in to whisper. “Nothing weird about _those_ two.”

“Right?” she replied, holding up the long, silver skeleton key Margie had handed her. “I think I’ve been taking key cards for granted.”

They arrived at their room and Scully unlocked the door, holding it open for him. He walked in and set down their suitcases on the floor. She stood next to him, surveying the room.

It wasn’t large, but it was bigger than he expected. There was somewhat of an anteroom with a television and a couch, and through that, one king bed and a decently sized bathroom. The decor was… odd, at best, and downright offensive at worst. Among large graphic paintings of violence that might be passed off as fine art in a classroom, and images of gargoyles and demons, there was also a crucifix attached to the wall above the bed. The figure of Jesus was rather graphically depicted.

“That’s… creepy, wouldn’t you say?” he asked her hesitantly. Scully was Catholic, but far from the thorn-pierced-bleeding-Jesus crucifix carrying kind.

“Um, yeah. I think we need to take that down.” She kicked off her shoes, clambering onto the bed. She touched the cross carefully as she determined its weight but he quickly realized, as she did, it was adhered firmly to the wall.

“Huh.” She slid off the bed and looked up at him, which she had to do now that her shoes had been removed. “I guess we could ask at the front desk?”

“Maybe we just leave it,” he suggested. “If there really is some kind of paranormal activity going on in this place I think we run a higher chance of witnessing it with something like that in the room. Don’t you think?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you say, Mulder.”

They both looked at the bed simultaneously.

Neither of them had discussed the sleeping arrangements because neither of them knew what to expect at this place. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, but sharing the bed didn’t seem unlikely. He assumed after last time she wouldn’t balk at the mere suggestion, at least. And they _were_ portraying a married couple. Years and years ago at Arcadia Falls it felt inappropriate and too intimate because they’d never done it before. Now, sleeping in the same bed was something they’d done more often than not.

The physical aspect of their relationship had progressed by a huge leap. But they hadn’t said one word to each other about where they were emotionally. He wanted to talk to her desperately but he was convinced this had to be on her terms. He also didn’t want her to assume sleeping in the same bed had to lead to sex, although he would certainly welcome that if the opportunity arose.

Scully set her suitcase on the bed then turned to him. She took his own bag out of his hands and set it on the bed next to hers. With an inscrutable look, she then walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

 _Well, that’s that…?_ he supposed.

He walked back into the anteroom and collapsed onto the couch to wait for her. He hoped this entire case wouldn’t be another exercise in avoidance and silence. At the very least, he hoped the two of them might have some of their usual fun on a case.

After a minute or so she exited the bathroom and stood leaning against the wall next to the television. They just looked at each other for a minute, searching the others’ expression for some answer. Finally, Scully spoke.

“So... what now, Venkman?”

He grinned and his heart stirred at her reference. Maybe this would be fun after all.

“Well, first impressions? What do you think, Scully?”

“They were definitely odd,” she said. “Seemed very fixated on being the best in the business. And this room is... bizarre.”

“That maintenance worker who died in ‘91, Cal Hodges?” Mulder said. “His wife still lives relatively close, in Boca Raton. Maybe we can go talk to her tomorrow?”

“Right. Tomorrow.” Scully checked her watch. Mulder found it adorable she still wore one in these modern times. “What do we do until then, Mulder?”

“I think, short of another murder occurring, all we can really do is wait and observe. It’s what we’re here to do,” he said.

“Wait and observe? By that you mean, sit in this hotel room and look for ghosts?”

“The unit’s called the X files, Scully? You’ve been involved for quite some time,” he chuckled.

“Want to order some food? I’m starving,” she said. He was starving too, and exhausted. Traveling usually took it out of him, especially considering the lack of sleep they both had last night. Not that he was complaining.

After the food arrived and they’d eaten, she turned to him. “Mulder, you really believe ghosts are somehow responsible for these deaths?”

He shrugged. “I’m willing to investigate every avenue as usual.”

“From what little I know about ghosts, though, they’re not exactly going around murdering people. Moving things around, making noises, and causing general mischief is quite another story. And all of those things can be explained by the natural settling of old buildings, and people’s heightened sensitivity and fear playing tricks on them.”

“Oh, right, the Gastaut-Geschwind thing.” He shook his head. “You really get a kick out of raining on my proverbial parade, don’t you Scully?”

“Actually, I do,” she smiled.

He laughed, loving every minute. It reminded him of the past, way back in the day when their camaraderie was evolving. It felt secure and wonderful.

“But come on,” she continued. “People’s paranoias can get the best of them in situations like this. I mean, we’ve seen this kind of thing before, Mulder.”

He smiled, remembering the haunted house they’d been trapped in with a pair of apparitions who were star crossed lovers. Strange things happened, to be sure, but as usual they’d both been left wondering what actually happened, and if their minds had only been playing tricks on them.

“I remember. Actually, all of that kind of faded into the background after you gave me porn for Christmas.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that was… did I really? That was brazen.”

“It was sexy, Scully. You knew me so well.” Specifically, it had been an alien abduction porno tape, which they'd both gotten a good laugh at when he opened it. He'd never admit he'd actually used it on multiple occasions.

“Your present was pretty brazen too, Mulder.”

He chuckled. “I told you I got you a little something.”

“It was not so little,” she laughed, eyebrow raised. “I don’t think I ever thanked you. You know, properly.”

“It’s okay. You’ve thanked me plenty over the years,” he winked. She grinned back and everything felt comfortable; the way he’d been hoping it would for the last several months. Her stiffness was gone, her hesitation. Her appearance of perpetual discomfort. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she just needed a good lay. He’d certainly needed it.

“Anyway, Mulder. I’m sure you’ll prove me wrong, as usual, but as far as I’m concerned the only ghosts we’ll find around here are at the Haunted Mansion up in Orlando.”

“I hate to break it to you, Scully, but... those are just robots.”

“Audio-animatronics.”

“Show-off.”

He picked up the remote and turned on the television as she picked up their room service remnants and deposited them out in the hallway. She then went back into the bathroom.

“Hey Scully!” he called after a minute. “ _The Exorcist_ is on! Your favorite!”

“I’ll be right out,” she called. He could tell she was brushing her teeth.

Eventually, she came back out wearing sweatpants and an oversized T shirt that looked like his, to his great delight. She plopped down next to him, and immediately leaned her head against his shoulder. The ease and comfort with which she did so warmed his insides, and he lifted his arm up and around her shoulder before he had a chance to second guess himself. She didn’t seem to mind and suddenly there they were, a married couple on vacation watching a scary movie on the couch together. It felt so nice that for about twenty minutes he hardly paid attention to the movie. He became hyper aware of every breath she took, every time her hand touched his knee. It felt like middle school again.

After about an hour she was asleep on his shoulder and he watched her for a minute. He could physically feel his heart filling up, as if her soft, steady inhaling and exhaling could breathe life directly into him. But he knew they were still not in the place they could be. It didn’t matter how many times they kissed, or slept together, or snuggled on the couch. What mattered was that they still were not discussing the things they needed to. These things were buried so deep he wasn’t sure how to get them out into the open. He didn’t know how to free them. Until they got to that place, they would be stuck in this status quo and he knew it.

He considered carrying her over to the bed but didn’t want to wake her, so he gently laid her down on the couch and covered her with a blanket.

He quietly took care of his bathroom business then crawled into bed. He tried to think about the case but soon found himself replaying the other night in his mind instead, over and over again. How they’d kissed, how quickly his mouth had been nestled between her thighs, how quickly she’d allowed it. How it felt to see her fall apart in his arms once again.

He knew things had changed for them significantly, but the extent of that change was still unknown to him. All he could do was wait for her.

He rolled over in the bed and drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't make me tell you what Ezekiel 23:20 is. If Scully could Google it, so can you. ;)


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go bump during Mulder and Scully's first night at the hotel.
> 
>  
> 
> “We are an inherently curious species, Mulder, looking for answers wherever we can. Often simple ignorance or misunderstanding is to blame for perpetuating these myths. And as time passes, and we learn more, we find that what we thought was unexplainable is actually quite explainable.”
> 
> He continued nodding, listening. He knew she’d say this, and she knew he’d disagree, as usual. She wondered briefly if the two of them would ever come to some point where they could explain their own dynamic, let alone the mysteries of the universe.

 ***

  
  
_She doesn’t know exactly what’s happening but she does know she is dying. She can feel her strength leaving her, the life slipping out of her slowly. This isn’t the first time she’s felt like she’s dying but it is the first time she truly believes it will be her last._

_Her attacker’s hands are around her throat, and she’s clawing at them desperately, but he’s so strong. She doesn’t recognize this man, which is the most jarring realization of all. One moment she’d been sleeping peacefully, a respite from her searing visions from William. The next moment this stranger is on top of her, robbing her of her life._

_She has three thoughts:_

_Who are you?_

_Why are you doing this?_

_And the last thought invades her mind overwhelmingly:_

_Mulder. Where is he?_

_She waits, and waits, and waits, but he is not here. The blackness takes her._

 

***

 

Scully woke up trembling and flushed. A dream; it was just a dream. That’s not how it really happened. What happened was that Mulder did arrive. He was there, just as he always was, to keep her safe. It was as if sheer hope had materialized him in that moment and she couldn’t remember ever being so relieved to see him.

Warm blood spattered her face and her attacker’s hands went slack as Mulder did what needed to be done. There was no time for contemplation; she would have died had he not acted. His face was beyond description, his eyes desolate with anguish and worry. She was so tired of seeing his face that way.

He reached out to touch her cheek and she let him, taking his hand with hers and holding it there, feeling his pulse racing madly. She closed her eyes and allowed him to take her fear away, but mostly it was so she wouldn’t have to look at that face anymore.

She thought of laying on that cold tile, and of Mulderleaning down to kiss her forehead. His lips on her skin had magical healing powers and in spite of the horror she’d just gone through she never wanted him to stop. He’d pulled away, looking at her with such love and tenderness, but her hand went to his neck and he read her eyes, as he always could, leaning down again to kiss her cheeks, first one, then the other. He kissed her nose, her eyelids, every place on her face that was not her lips. Those were off-limits.

She remembered him putting his arms around her shoulders and lifting her body up off the hospital floor, holding her close until she broke. She shook violently and cried into his shirt, wrapping herself around him, falling, melting into him again like she used to. The feeling had been unstoppable, an avalanche following her, chasing her, enveloping her. And as she wept in that moment, all the things that drove her away from him didn’t matter, none of that mattered while he was holding her.

She’d told him earlier that very day she needed him. The words had just tumbled out. She’d been so afraid that he was going to die, the vision she’d seen terrified her beyond belief. It was a familiar fear; she’d felt it time and time again over the years anytime his life was in danger. But ever since her attack the fear had intensified.

The truth was, she did need him. She needed him like she needed her next breath. And the irony of Mulder being the one to dispatch the man who was attempting to steal her last breath from her body wasn’t lost on her.

Scully sat up and looked around, momentarily confused about where she was. Then she realized she was on the couch, and remembered they’d been watching a movie and she must have fallen asleep. She could hear Mulder breathing in the bed across the room and she briefly considered getting into the bed with him but thought better of it.

She laid back down, turned to her side and pulled the blanket up to her chin, squeezing her eyes shut. She tried to find rest, but as usual, her thoughts turned to Mulder.

She reflected upon their forced intimacy; the change in their partnered dynamic over the years whether they’d wanted it to change or not. Years and years ago, a quick “You okay, Scully?” and a routinely refused proffered hand was the extent of his post-trauma attentions. She preferred it that way because she hadn’t wanted to be seen by him as weak, or less than. She knew Mulder never meant to make her feel that way but he was a male, she was a female, and it had always concerned her.

Now, they were something different. He’d held her in that hospital with reverence; something he could not live without. Perhaps he’d always felt that way about her, she certainly had about him, but things changed after they’d given each other permission to show it. And ever since this attack, this near-death experience, she was coming to realize something revelatory: that she was terrified of being apart from him.

How had she done that these past few years? How had she chosen that life? How did she survive _that_?

She exhaled loudly; sleep was elusive. Knowing she was destined to lose this particular battle tonight, she kicked the blanket off, heaved a sigh and got up, her legs taking her the only place she knew they would.

Mulder was fast asleep in the bed, and she was envious. Not only that his own slumber hadn’t been interrupted by a terrible nightmare, but she felt envious of the empty space in the bed next to him. That particular emptiness was unnecessary and stupid, and she was angry at it for existing, just for a second. Then she felt ridiculous for such thoughts.

“I had a bad dream,” she said loudly and without any gentle preamble, startling him awake. She hadn’t realized until she uttered the words how childish they sounded.

“Jesus, Scully,” he breathed. “Maybe just... a tap next time or something?”

“Sorry.”

“Are we doing the thing again?” he grinned, flipping his blankets open and scooting over in the bed. She knew he was making space for her, that he knew what she needed even though she wouldn’t admit it.

All she could do was nod and slip in next to him, and he gathered her into his arms, pulling her into him tightly. Part of her hated herself for giving into this so quickly but she was powerless to her need. She’d never felt so tiny against him before.

After several moments he spoke again. “Are we… doing the other thing, too?”

She kicked him, hard. He reacted, saying _ow!_ and laughing, but leaned in to kiss the back of her neck anyway. She let him because she knew everything about this was inevitable, this perpetual state of inertia wouldn’t last forever. At some point they’d make another leap, and then another, and another, until they were somewhere new. Until they could move forward. She could only hope.

She was in bed with him now though, in his arms, feeling safe and secure. She wouldn’t have dreamt it conceivable even a week ago. Some things were, in fact, not outside the realm of extreme possibility.

“What was your dream about?”

She hesitated. She wanted to tell him the truth but she didn't want him to worry. So she chickened out. “I don't know. Maybe watching _The Exorcist_ right before bed wasn’t the best idea,” she said.

“You’ve never been jumpy with scary movies, Scully. What’s going on?”

He probably hadn’t intended it, but his words had conjured countless images in her mind of the two of them cuddled up on the couch at home, watching years worth of scary movies together. Between the two of them, it was Mulder’s endlessly active imagination typically keeping _him_ up at night.

The memories of their good times were powerful. These thoughts seemed to occupy her mind frequently these days. It had been easier and easier to push them away over the years, not living with him anymore. But she couldn’t help it now; she saw him all the time, and seeing him reminded her. She was pleased to learn that time had made it easier to remember more good things than bad.

It was nice to imagine the two of them sailing smoothly past obstacles, finding solace in each other, heading towards that beckoning horizon of happiness they could never quite reach. It was admittedly easier to see in hindsight, but the good times were indeed numerous and weighty. She found it difficult to believe, with over twenty years behind them, they’d allowed the weight of the bad times to run them aground.

Mulder wasn’t blameless, to be sure, but she should have done more to save them. They were drowning and there was no one to rescue them but themselves. He hadn’t tried hard enough, but she hadn’t either and she knew it.

She wondered about their communication seminar tomorrow and if it would help them, or if it was just too late for them, so set in their ways they seemed to be.

“Scully? What did you really dream about?” he pressed.

Seeing the ways in which Mulder had changed, however, gave her hope. Like this; he was pressing her for the truth. It was something they rarely did with each other. He was trying, and it seemed like he was trying for her, for _them._ He hadn’t given up. Maybe she shouldn’t either.

She sighed. “It was… that man, in the hospital. The one who tried to kill me.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, then she heard him exhale deeply. He just held her tighter and didn’t seem to have anything to say, or at least couldn’t think of anything. It reminded her of some months ago when her mother died and they’d sat on a log together as she grieved and he just listened. He knew there weren’t magic words he could say to fix everything. He just held her and listened. It was what she needed and something she hadn’t been terribly used to with the old Mulder, who would have gone about things differently. Not because he loved her any less, but because it was just how he operated. Go, go, go, find the answer, always a solution.

“I don’t think I’ve actually been that close to dying, Mulder. Even way back in the day. They say your life is supposed to flash before your eyes, but that’s not what happened.” She paused, considering her next words. “Or maybe it did. I saw nothing, total blackness, and I thought I was dead. Then I saw you.”

For a moment he stopped breathing and she felt it.

“Maybe that _was_ my life, Mulder. Just darkness. And you.”

He exhaled the breath he’d been holding and his voice sounded thick with emotion in her ear.

“You know that’s not true,” he said quietly, and she knew he was right. But it felt true.

“I know. But I can’t help feeling that way.”

“Scully, is this your choice, right now? Honestly?”

“What do you mean?”

“Being back here, with me. On the X files, I mean.”

This very question had plagued her ever since they started up again. Her dedication to the X files had been reinvigorated but she couldn’t help but wonder if, for her, it was truly only because she was out of options.

_I don’t see there’s a choice._

“I don’t know, Mulder,” she answered honestly. Maybe she would prefer to be far away from all of this, and not thrust back into this situation. But she _was_ here, now, with him. That alone had to mean something. “Is it _your_ choice?”

She knew the answer and she hated it. He’d always choose to be out there searching for truths. As much as she wished he’d stop for personal reasons, she couldn’t help but take some comfort in the very fact of him, Fox Mulder, out there doing his thing. It was a conundrum.

“My choice to be doing this? Or my choice for you to be here with me, doing this?”

She shrugged, because it all felt so bundled up anyway.

“In any given scenario,” he said into her ear, “whenever the question is about what I want, what my choice would be, the answer might feel complex or loaded but the answer is always gonna be the same.”

“What?” she asked, softly.

“You, Scully. In whatever capacity you’ll have me.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand because she knew that answer. She wouldn’t get tired of hearing it, either.

“Look, I don’t kid myself that this work holds the same thrill for you that it once did,” he continued. “I know that time has passed for you, I’ve known it for a while. Would I have preferred it been _your_ choice to get partnered with me again? To actually _want_ to be here, doing this? Of course I would,” he admitted. “But as usual I’m left wondering if that’s truly the case.”

She was quiet for a moment, just breathing, the heat of his body curled next to hers her primary focus. “You make it sound like I don’t want to be here at all, though, and I can’t say that’s true,” she said.

“I hope it’s not,” he sighed. Then he leaned in close to whisper into her ear again. “But I’ll take you any way I can get you, Scully.”

She smiled and turned around in the bed to face him. It really did feel like déjà vu. Her hand laid against his face, the roughness of his cheek such a comfort. She hooked her leg over his and kissed him softly.

“Well,” she said. “You’ve got me right now.”

 

***

 

_*thump!* thump! *thump!*_

She awoke to a loud thumping sound, reverberating throughout the room. It was insanely loud and she could not for the life of her determine a cause. Suddenly it stopped. Mulder stirred next to her, his arms around her waist, his face buried into her naked back.

“Mulder!” she hissed. He was not a heavy sleeper, he never had been. She thought it odd he didn’t seem to hear the noise.

“Mmm,” was all he said.

“Hey! Get up, did you hear that?!”

“Hear what.”

_*thump!* thump! *thump!*_

She sat straight up in bed. “Come on, are you serious?” _How did he not hear that?_

“You’re awfully jumpy, Scully. C’mere,” he growled, trying to pull her back down next to him. She hesitated, but after several moments the silence in the room spoke volumes. Maybe she’d only imagined it?

She laid back down, his arms around her waist, and his hands lightly brushed her abdomen. She could tell he was half asleep but felt his lips against her shoulder blades anyway, lightly kissing. His touch was soothing and she tried to fall back asleep.

_*thump!* thump! *thump!*_

Bolting up again, she elbowed him in the ribs. “That! You heard that, right?”

“Scully, what are you talking about?”

“That… thumping! How do you not hear that?”

“Okay, no more scary movies for you,” he said sleepily, and he was out again.

_What the fuck was going on?_

She didn’t believe in ghosts. She told herself this was nonsense, it was an irrational fear. The investigator in her wanted to jump out of bed and seek out the source of the offending noise. But she hesitated. She was actually hearing things now, real things. And Mulder was not.

She scanned the room, every dark corner reminding her of being a scared child and asking her father to check underneath her bed for monsters. There never were, and he always told her not to be afraid. There was no such thing as monsters, Ahab would say, and she believed him. She often wondered if his no-nonsense attitude was the very source of her own skepticism.

Mulder’s softly snoring presence might as well be absence and she laid back down, covering her naked body with the sheet. She felt exposed, utterly, and suddenly felt the need to get some clothing back on but her pajamas were on the floor several feet from the bed.

_How did that happen?_

Oh, right. They’d undressed rather hastily and she recalled Mulder tossing her clothes off the bed. Luckily, his navy blue NASA T shirt had been tossed over the bedside lamp and his boxer shorts were at the foot of the bed. She pulled them both on and crawled back under the sheets. The room was silent except for Mulder’s soft breathing and she suddenly felt very alone and slightly terrified.

She curled up next to him, lifting his limp arm over her body and shivered. Why was the room so cold? For some reason she kept her eyes trained on the door, and wasn’t sure if she ever drifted back to sleep or not. But after some time the room was pierced again by loud screaming, and this time Mulder heard it.

“What the hell is that?!” he asked, throwing the covers off and leaping out of bed. He grabbed his weapon off the nightstand, raced to the door and was about to run into the hallway when she stopped him.

“Mulder!” she said. “You’re naked!”

He looked down in confusion, his hair askew. It was a moment of levity in an otherwise charged situation and she chuckled in spite of everything. He then scampered around the room looking for his clothing.

“Where the fuck is my underwear?” he grumbled to himself, and she got out of bed, picking up his pants off a nearby chair. She handed them to him and shrugged as his eyes took in the sight of her wearing his boxer shorts. He pulled his pants on with a grin, then he raced out the door, weapon drawn. She followed him down the hallway and the scream came again. She suddenly came to her senses, realizing he might blow their cover.

“M- _Darrin_!” she hissed. He looked back, confused. She glanced at his gun meaningfully and he nodded in understanding, quickly handing it to her as she caught up to him. She tucked it inside her waistband (his, rather), obscuring it underneath her shirt. She felt better knowing one of them had a weapon, but it was way too soon to blow their cover. Her instinct had been correct, because just then, Roman Fallbrook emerged from the landing. Other hotel guests started peeking outside their rooms.

“Oh my, what’s going on?!” Roman yelled. His manner was so dramatic that for a moment Scully wondered if this entire thing was an elaborate ruse to frighten guests and give them their money’s worth.

Mulder went into the room ahead of her and when she entered a frigid chill swept over her. She shivered, wondering if the air conditioning unit wasn’t functioning properly. She then saw a woman on the bed seizing. A man cowered in the corner, terrified. Roman just stood there looking intently at the woman, but doing nothing. Scully assumed he was in shock and intervened, doctor mode kicking in.

“Call 911!” she ordered the man. “Now!”

She knelt down by the bed and rolled the woman to her side to clear her airway. The thrashing was so violent it was hard to even get a good look at her. She glanced at her wristwatch, which she always wore for emergencies just like this one regardless of living in an era of smartphones. She noted the time and waited, making sure the woman wasn’t choking. The man was calling 911, Mulder was watching and scanning the room, and after a few more moments the seizure stopped.

“Miss?” Scully asked. The young woman didn’t open her eyes but looked to be sleeping peacefully. Scully turned to the man. He was talking to the 911 operator.

“Are you her husband?” she asked.

“Um… boyfriend. Yeah.” The man was panicked.

“Tell them to send a paramedic, and that she seemed to be having a grand mal seizure.”

The man relayed the information and the paramedics were dispatched.

“Is she epileptic?” Scully asked. He shook his head and for the first time she really noticed how white his face was with fear. “Has this ever happened before?”

“No,” he answered.

“Is she… narcoleptic?” Scully asked the man.

“No. Actually, she’s more of an insomniac most of the time.” He shook his head.

They waited for the paramedics to arrive. Scully noticed Mulder was watching Roman carefully. He stood stock still the entire time, just watching the woman.

“You okay, Roman?” Mulder asked, touching his arm.

“She didn’t listen…” he mumbled. “She didn’t listen.”

“What are you talking about, man?” the guy asked him. He looked so confused and scared Scully felt bad for him, and if she was being perfectly honest she was a little afraid herself.

The paramedics arrived and once she and Mulder were safely ensconced back in their room, door closed, he could hardly contain his excitement.

“What do you say, Scully? Looks like a classic case of demon possession to me.”

She knew where this was headed and raised an eyebrow, as she was wont to do. “Demons? As in, actual demons, Mulder?”

“Scully.” He looked at her intently. “You were raised Catholic. You have to have an opinion about the phenomenon of demon possession.”

“As a matter of fact I do, are you ready?”

“Am I?”

“It isn’t real.”

He scoffed and his eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I don’t know, Mulder. Did you think you might be?”

“Scully, come on,” he said. There wasn’t malice or frustration in his voice. It was more like a young kid trying to talk her into stealing cookies out of the cookie jar. “ _The Exorcist_ is your favorite movie!”

“That’s a movie, Mulder,” she sighed, exasperated. “My brother’s favorite movie was _Star Wars._ That doesn’t make Darth Vader real.”

Mulder frowned and made a _how dare you_ face.

“Look, Mulder…” she sighed, smiling, her hand on her forehead. “I’m willing to entertain the possibility. You know me well enough to know that. But you also must know that there are no substantive accounts that give the phenomenon of demon possession any basis in fact. More than likely these people suffered from some kind of mental illness or the stories were manufactured for a multitude of reasons.”

He shrugged and grinned.

“You’re not telling me you believe this is the actual devil, hanging around this little hotel in Key West, inhabiting that poor girl’s body? She had a seizure, that’s it.”

“What if it wasn’t? Did you notice the crucifix above their bed too? Something weird is going on around here.”

“This is ridiculous, Mulder. You don’t even believe in the devil. Or God, for that matter.”

“What do we know about demon possession, or if you’d rather, Scully, _reported_ _cases_ of demon possession? It’s not specific to Catholicism. I’m sure you’re aware it’s been around since ancient Sumerian times.”

She sighed again. It was their usual dance. She certainly did believe something unusual was going on in this hotel, but this was all so closely wrapped up with her own faith it made her uncomfortable. To him, this would be something cool, something interesting. For her, it went to the heart of her deeply held religious beliefs. As usual, she simply didn’t want to face it.

“Something happened to these people, Scully,” he pressed. “There’s some kind of malignant evil presence in this hotel.”

“Of course you’d say that, Mulder. Because this is where you and I happen to be at the moment.”

“But it’s not just the people in this hotel, Scully. This has happened to people all over the world, for centuries.”

“What _happened_ to them, Mulder, isn’t demon possession. It’s something purely physical. Seizures, fainting, memory loss. Many afflictions can explain these symptoms. I’m sorry, but unlike you, I don’t jump immediately to Satan.”

“Right, right,” he said. She recognized his usual frustration with her but he masked it with patience. It was refreshing. “The devil is a concept, I forgot.”

She placed her hands on her hips, wanting to nip this entire theory in the bud. “Might I remind you, Mulder, those ancient Sumerians you’d like to hang your hat on believed sicknesses or afflictions of any kind were demons needing to be cast out. And in many cases, even in modern times, priests and loved ones would choose to rely on the exorcism rites and deny the patient the medical care they actually needed, thereby causing even more harm. Maybe even death.”

Mulder nodded. She wasn’t sure what she believed in this case, but she had a strong urge to steer him away from any religious connotations.

“We are an inherently curious species, Mulder, looking for answers wherever we can. Often simple ignorance or misunderstanding is to blame for perpetuating these myths. And as time passes, and we learn more, we find that what we thought was unexplainable is actually quite explainable.”

He continued nodding, listening. He knew she’d say this, and she knew he’d disagree, as usual. She wondered briefly if the two of them would ever come to some point where they could explain their own dynamic, let alone the mysteries of the universe.

“The power of suggestion is real, Mulder, and the longer a legend or tale goes on, the stronger it becomes. You yourself have seen this with stories of alien abductions. And these stories can last for centuries, as anyone sitting in a pew on a Sunday morning would tell you.”

Suddenly cognizant of what she was saying, Scully stopped talking. She turned her back to Mulder and began to climb back into bed.

“Scully, when’s the last time you went to church?” he asked quietly.

She didn’t face him, but the room suddenly felt stuffy. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I didn’t mean anything by that, I just…” he trailed off, maybe not really knowing where his line of questioning was headed. She knew what he was thinking. He probably expected her to entertain his theory quickly, or at least quicker than usual. In the past it hadn’t been uncommon for her to open her mind up when it came to the powers of God.

Truth be told, she hadn’t been to church in a long time. She felt guilty about it but she wasn’t sure why. There were so many things in her life she’d given up over the years, so many things sacrificed at the altar of the truth; the Truth with a capital T she and Mulder had given so much blood, sweat and tears for. One by one things in her life had disappeared, things she thought would last. Her sister. Queequeg. Her career. Her ability to have a family of her own.

William.

And finally, Mulder.

The one thing she’d always thought she’d never forsake she had left behind, his heart in ruins, his face stained with tears. It still haunted her. After she left him her life had fallen apart. It sounded so dramatic whenever she’d think of it that way, but it was the truth. She suddenly had so little to believe in anymore. Her church attendance dropped drastically and after she lost her mother she stopped attending altogether. It was almost as if her mother departed from this world and took Scully’s faith with her.

“I’m sorry, Scully... I shouldn’t have said that,” Mulder said.

“It’s okay, Mulder,” she said quietly. The last thing she wanted was to drive an unnecessary wedge between them in light of all their progress. She wasn’t upset with him. But she did not want to continue down this line of questioning. “Just come back to bed.”

He listened, and she heard him rustle in his suitcase to get another pair of boxers before crossing the room to turn out the light. When the room fell into darkness she was afraid again, but then she felt him next to her, his arms sliding around her, his heart beating behind her. Her fear disappeared and was replaced with sleep.

 

***

 

_*thump!* thump! *thump!*_

She was awakened once more by the thumping noises. She turned to look at Mulder who was, yet again, sleeping right through it all. She watched him for a couple minutes, focusing on his face until she was sure the noises had stopped. His head was off the pillow, mouth slightly open, and she could hear him breathing. She settled next to him, her face just a few inches from his, and watched him.

Unable to help herself, and figuring little else was waking him up tonight anyway, she reached out to touch his face. When she did she felt a strong surge of energy throughout her entire body, and for a moment she thought she’d only imagined it, but she reproached herself. It had been real. And she suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

Throwing the sheets off her, she ran to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. She couldn’t help but think of Regan in _The Exorcist_ , and suddenly she felt extremely isolated and afraid again.

She flushed the toilet and rinsed her mouth out, and as she walked back toward the bed she heard a knock at the door. She looked at the clock and it was 1:45. Mulder again didn’t stir. Through the peephole she could see it was Roman.

“...Yes?” she said quietly after opening the door. Roman stared at her for a moment and it was unnerving. “What is it?”

“You got the demons,” he said.

A chill ran up her spine. “Excuse me?”

“In you. Demons. You got ‘em.”

She glanced back at Mulder, still asleep in the bed. Then she looked back at Roman. “I’m sorry, is this… it’s the middle of the night,” she pointed out.

“I can help you, lady,” he said. “I’m ordained.”

“Um. What?”

“I’m a priest.”

Scully stared at him blankly. “I think... I’d just like to go back to sleep, if you wouldn’t mind.” She wasn’t sure how to respond. Was it customary in this place for the manager to wake their guests up at two in the morning and offer them an exorcism?

“Okay…” Roman said, turning to walk away. His eyes darted back to her. “But I can help you. You should listen. Before it’s too late. Like the others.”

He departed and Scully stood bewildered in the doorway. It was unsettling for sure, but was this all just an act? Was it part of the whole ‘haunted hotel’ experience? She closed the door, making a decision to rouse Mulder and tell him what happened. But as she climbed back into bed, she changed her mind. What the hell would she say? She had no idea what was going on.

Flipping onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, thinking about what Roman had said.

_You got the demons._

What was that about? Was he pulling her leg because Mulder had said she believed in ghosts? Or was there something else going on here? She didn’t believe in ghosts, but the uneasiness she felt was real. And the physical sensation in her stomach when she’d just touched Mulder had been very real.

Mulder had turned over, his back to her. She cuddled into him, her cheek against his back, her arm draped over his body, gently touching his stomach. She secretly hoped he'd wake up so she could talk to him, or kiss him, or even go for round two. Anything but this overwhelming sense of foreboding she couldn't shake.

She sighed and closed her eyes, searching for sleep. She _did_ have demons, they both did. But she didn’t think an exorcism was what she and Mulder needed.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our duo interview some witnesses. Mulder notices Scully is acting a bit strangely.
> 
> “He didn’t know which was worse; Scully messing with his heart or something external and much more sinister at work. His wheels were spinning and he was truly worried they’d gotten themselves directly wrapped up into yet another X file.”

****EXCELSIOR KEYS HOTEL

KEY WEST, FLORIDA

7:23 AM

 

When he woke up she was still in his arms and for a brief moment he forgot. He forgot they weren’t a couple anymore, that they were living apart, that there were so many demons in their past he was unsure how to proceed. Right now, however, she looked peaceful. Her head rested on her pillow, a strand of red hair falling into her face, her eyelids twitching slightly. She was beautiful.

It occurred to him that this face, right now, was his favorite of all her faces because it meant there was nothing hurting her, nothing bringing her pain or fear. She was at peace. In the end, that was all he really wanted for her.

He wanted to just watch her sleep for a minute but an overwhelming urge to pee forced him out of the bed and into the bathroom. He was washing his hands when he noticed Scully standing in the doorway behind him, looking intently at him.

“Morning,” he smiled.

“Don’t do that, Mulder!” Her face was practically white and she looked terrified.

“Do what?”

“I woke up and you were gone, it scared me half to death!”

He blinked. “I… just... had to go to the bathroom,” he said, confused.

“Just tell me next time, okay? Wake me up.”

He cocked his head to the side, perplexed by this frightened, needy Scully. But he nodded, wanting to ease her fears, however irrational. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

She entered the bathroom and threw her arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly. He rubbed her back, and while he obviously never minded when she was affectionate, he was still very confused by this behavior. “You okay, Scully?”

“Yes,” she mumbled into his chest. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m fine now.”

He tried to think of what could be causing her fear. She’d had a nightmare last night, and the incident down the hall had shaken her up, perhaps. But it was unlike her to be so clingy.  

“I got us an appointment to go visit that maintenance worker’s wife today. You want to shower first?” he asked.

“First?” she asked. Her face, once again, was inscrutable and he wondered if she was misinterpreting things. He didn’t assume they’d be showering together just because of last night and he realized his wording may have confused her.

“Yeah, first. As in, you go, then I go.”

She stared at him for a second then shook her head. “No, I think we should stick together, Mulder,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and he were an absolute buffoon for merely suggesting otherwise. “It’s much safer.”

“Safer?”  _Safer than what? What the hell?_ “Scully, what’s the matter? Did you have another nightmare?”

“No.”

“You feeling okay? Did you hit your head on something?”

“No, why?”

He put his hands up, mouthing _I’m… just…_

She looked at him blankly.

_Just... what? You dumb motherfucker, she wants to shower with you!_

“You coming?” she asked very matter-of-factly, as she walked past him, removing her clothes (his, actually) and turning on the shower. For a moment he just watched her disrobe, baring every gorgeous curve to him, stunned that she seemed so comfortable with this. But then he nodded, pulling down his boxers faster than he thought possible, and jumped in after her. It wasn’t the usual way she might lure him into some morning sex. Something was strange. She was telling him to join her with her words but her actions were… off.

Anyway, he went with it. He was still only a man, after all.

She began washing herself when he stepped in and he just watched her for awhile, the hot water running down her body, her hands rubbing soapy lather into her skin. _Fuck_.

He felt himself getting hard and hoped her intentions were aligned with his. But she barely looked at him as she moved on to her hair, washing, rinsing, doing her thing. Her eyes were closed as the water dripped down her torso and he couldn’t help but stare. She was just so beautiful, and he wanted to touch her so badly but wasn’t sure if it would be welcomed. Right now she was behaving as if his presence was simply being tolerated, not desired or enjoyed. Maybe she just… wanted to shower?

Suddenly he felt very rejected and needed to say something. “Scully,” he said. He placed his arm against the wall behind her, forcing her to look up at him. She opened her eyes and looked completely unbothered.

“Uh huh?”

“Scully, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she smiled. Then her expression turned to what he could only describe as embarrassment. “Oh, Mulder, I didn’t- I’m sorry, did you think…?”

He pulled back, a bit hurt. “I thought… you said you wanted me here, didn’t you?”

“I do want you here, but... I think we should probably just shower. We have a lot to do today.” She handed him the soap and backed up a bit, pulling him into the stream of hot water.

“Hurry up, I want to go get some coffee,” she said as she held his wrists. “There isn’t a coffee maker in the room. Shocking, I know.”

He looked at her, completely bewildered by this behavior. His face must have betrayed such utter confusion that she actually reacted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get your hopes up,” she said. “I feel stupid now.” She leaned into him and gave him a long, wet kiss that made him even harder than he already was. When she pulled away, his eyes remained closed and he knew if she left him hanging he was going to have a little problem.

Maybe a big problem.

“Are you done? Ready to get out?” she asked, stepping away from him.

He shifted his body a bit, hardly believing she wasn’t well aware of his discomfort.

“No, I need… look, Scully, I’m gonna need… a minute alone, if you catch my drift.”

“Alone?” She looked frightened. Her eyes darted down, then up. “Oh.”

“Just… can you give me a minute?”

She seemed to be considering his request, but was extremely hesitant to let him out of her sight. He felt very awkward. He didn’t want her to think he was guilting her into sex. None of this felt right. How did they end up in this situation? Everything that had taken place since the moment she entered the bathroom felt like some weird Twilight Zone episode he wanted to fast-forward to the end of.

“I don’t-” she seemed to be searching for words. “I’m not leaving this shower without you.” She narrowed her eyes at him and curled her hands around his backside. "I guess we'll just have to take care of this, won't we?"

For a moment she seemed like herself again and it occurred to him she’d only been acting strangely when she wasn’t physically touching him. He filed this information away in his brain in case it was important. It didn’t make any sense, but this was just the way Mulder’s mind worked: always jumping to what others might never notice, always attempting to make sense of the most nonsensical.

“You’re insatiable lately, you know that?” she said, and pulled him against her, her tummy soft against what was fast becoming an uncomfortable erection. He pushed her wet hair back from her face to look at her, a bit concerned.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I’m sure, Mulder. I want to.” She pulled his face to hers and as her tongue entered his mouth all his rational thinking left his brain anyway.

There was a rubber bath mat underneath their feet in what appeared to be an extremely old claw foot tub. He wondered if it had actually ever seen sex before, but as he felt Scully’s wet hand wrap around his length he suddenly cared about little else. She stroked him slowly as she held onto the back of his neck and his eyes closed. He couldn’t believe any of this was happening, after so many years he and Scully were fucking on assignments again. Other than Henrico County the last time they did this was eighteen years ago, and oddly enough the situation was extremely similar. Sex without talking; giving in to their physical attraction without telling each other how they truly felt.

He hated that so much time had passed and it seemed like they’d learned nothing. It was so hard to acknowledge this, especially now while her lips were pressed against his and she literally held him in the palm of her hand. He didn’t want to continue fucking this up. He wanted this badly but he wanted her more; he wanted her forever.

“Scully, wait…” He wanted her to hear him but her ministrations rendered his protests ineffective. And when she knelt down to take him into her mouth he knew attempting any kind of conversation right now would be pointless.

His head tilted back and his eyes closed as her name left his lips like an incantation, slow and deliberate. His hand gripped the shower curtain and he pulled hard enough to rip it off a couple of the rings. _Oops._ He wasn’t looking forward to explaining that one on the expense report. He’d actually almost forgotten how her mouth felt around him and as she sucked and pulled and the water crashed down around them he felt a relief he didn’t want to forget again. Before long his orgasm overtook him and he meant to warn her but he was completely outside of himself and couldn't react in time. She didn’t complain, and only withdrew him from her mouth after he was completely spent.

He finally opened his eyes to look down into hers and if he were a younger man he’d have been instantly hard again just from the look she gave him. There was a familiar smirk on her plump lips and her eyebrow lifted in gratification. It was his Scully again, he could tell, and while he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on right now he was relieved in this moment she clearly felt good about what they’d just done.

She planted a soft kiss on his stomach as she stood up to kiss him again properly. He dragged his fingers down her back and continued to move his hands south to return the favor when she pulled away from his kiss with a grin and began to open the curtain. 

“Wait, Scully- what about you?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Mulder. I really just want some coffee. Are you ready to get out yet?”

The weirdness was back. Scully loved her coffee but she would _never_ choose coffee over an orgasm.

He quickly finished up and followed her out, wrapping a towel around himself. He started to leave the bathroom to go get his clothes when she stopped him.

“Wh-where are you going?” She looked terrified.

He looked at her, perplexed. “To get my clothes, Scully. Out of my suitcase? Is that okay?”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you so jumpy? You’re acting really weird,” he said, approaching her and taking her hand.

“I’m sorry, I just… I really don’t know. I guess I’m still a little spooked from last night.”

“Apparently,” he agreed. This was all so unlike Scully he wondered for a minute if she’d been possessed herself.

After several more minutes of getting ready, Scully’s eyes rarely leaving him, making sure he was staying near, they left the room together and headed downstairs. In the lobby there were about a half dozen guests, with coffee and a nice continental spread. He saw Roman there who nodded as they passed, watching Scully closely. She clung to Mulder the entire time, never letting him go. As strange as her behavior was, he couldn’t help but secretly enjoy the closeness. It was such a nice departure from the way they’d been for years that he decided to indulge in it.

They had some coffee and pastries and were about to leave when the man from last night’s incident came up to them, tapping on Scully’s shoulder. She turned to him, but didn’t let go of Mulder’s arm.

“Ma’am, hi, I just wanted to say thank you for helping Alyse last night,” he said, gesturing to his girlfriend who was sitting at a nearby table.

Scully did a double take. “I thought she would be at the hospital, the paramedics didn’t take her there?”

“No, they said it must have been a false alarm. They didn’t find a thing wrong with her.”

Mulder was surprised by this, but not nearly as surprised as Scully. “They didn’t want to take her in, do a PET scan? Anything like that?” Scully wasn’t necessarily supposed to be a doctor in this role, but Mulder guessed it didn’t matter. Here in this place they were both essentially clean slates.

The man shook his head. “Do you… do you think we should?”

“I mean… I would, just to be sure there isn’t some kind of underlying condition. You said she’d never seized before. I’m sorry, I just… I’m a doctor,” Scully explained. “It’s definitely something to keep an eye on, Mister…?”

“Nance, Tim Nance. She says she feels fine. Would you mind saying hello? I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

“Um… yes, sure, okay,” Scully smiled. She gripped Mulder’s arm tightly. They all walked over and introduced themselves.

“Thank you so much for your help,” the young woman said gratefully.

Mulder wasn't sure what actually happened with the young woman. He certainly believed possession was possible, but he didn't have much to go on in this case. Now that she was here in front of him, maybe he could get some answers.

"Do you have any idea what happened?" he asked her.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I don’t remember anything. All I know is we were watching a scary movie before bed and I had a horrible dream. When I woke up the paramedics were there.”

He pulled a chair out and got down to Alyse’s level, curious about their interactions with the Fallbrooks. “Have you talked to Roman over there, by chance?” He gestured at the manager, who was cleaning up a spill across the room with tiny cocktail napkins.

“Yeah, he’s weird.”

“Weird, how? What did he say to you?” Scully asked quickly, suddenly fully engaged. She sat next to Mulder, still gripping to his arm.

“He told me I had demons and that I was sick or something. He’s really creepy.”

“When did he tell you this?” Scully asked.

Alyse thought. “When we checked in, when was that, honey? Three days ago?”

Tim shrugged.

“Tim didn’t hear him say it but he did,” Alyse insisted. “The weirdest part was that I was beginning to believe him, I really was.”

“Believe... you might have been possessed? By demons?” Mulder asked.

“I just… I’ve always been afraid of that movie. I really thought for a minute maybe... he was right.”

“I told you watching that movie was a bad idea,” Tim said. He looked at Mulder and Scully. “It was _The Exorcist._ So of course she’s dreaming about being possessed.”

“You were right, okay?” Alyse said, annoyed. “Next time we’ll watch the stupid Michael Bay movie.”

“We were watching it too, actually,” Mulder said, his wheels turning. “You had a bad dream too, didn’t you, honey?”

Scully turned to Alyse. “Sometimes the mere act of believing something can make it feel very real,” she explained. “This sort of thing happens with a lot of so-called possession victims. A belief in demons can cause them to experience symptoms of possession, therefore the belief in exorcism can actually have the power to remove those symptoms.”

“Don’t mind her,” Mulder interjected. “It’s her favorite movie.” Scully elbowed him.

“I’m just saying, whatever happened, you probably imagined it. Especially if the paramedics found nothing medically wrong with you.”

“Well, in any event, I’m glad to be getting out of here,” Alyse concluded. “We’re checking out today.”

“Did you get the experience here you were hoping for?” Mulder asked.

“Yes, and then some,” Tim sighed. “To be honest, I think I’ve had enough.”

“Well, you two have a safe trip home,” Mulder said. “And I’m glad to see you’re doing okay,” he added to Alyse.

“I really recommend you get checked out more thoroughly by your doctor when you get home. Just to be sure,” Scully suggested.

Alyse nodded. “I’ll do that. And thank you, for everything.”

Scully smiled and pulled Mulder away, heading out the door. He wondered if any of this was connected, but just as he started to turn it all over in his brain, she suddenly let go of his arm. It was so abrupt it was jarring, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. She didn’t seem annoyed or upset, it just… happened.

“What time are we talking to that maintenance worker’s wife?” she asked. Back to business. It was as if nothing odd had occurred this morning between them at all.

“Twelve thirty,” he said. “But it’s a long drive so we should leave now.”

She sighed. “How about you go take care of that, Mulder? And I can go chat with the local PD, get some insight into their history with the Fallbrooks. Meet back up later?”

Mulder stopped. “Scully.”

She turned. “What?”

“What is going _on_?”

“What do you mean?” She looked at him blankly.

He gaped at her. “This morning, you wouldn’t let me out of your sight! You dragged me into the shower with you, you were so afraid. Now you want to split up?”

She looked genuinely confused. “Mulder, relax. I just thought we’d save some time this way. We can go together and I’ll call the chief on the way. Don’t get upset,” she said. His expression must have been worrisome because she took a step closer to him and grabbed his hand.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m fine, okay?” She looked into his eyes and he believed her.

She turned to walk towards their car and he honestly suspected she wasn’t aware anything she did earlier had been strange. It was as if the moment they stepped out of the hotel she became herself again.

He exhaled loudly and followed her to the car. As they drove, Mulder wondered what was going on. Was she playing mind games with him? It wasn’t like her to toy with his emotions, send him mixed signals. Especially considering how tenuous their relationship was at the moment.

What if the hotel _did_ have some kind of strange power, and it was affecting her somehow? If he were to let his mind wander where it wanted to, this is the explanation it would lead him to, certainly. Ever since that morning she was behaving oddly, and while she seemed to be herself whenever she was physically touching him, the mere idea his touch was a prerequisite for her normalcy was enough to stop him short.

What was going on here? Was any of this related to the deaths, or to what happened to the young woman down the hall last night?

More importantly, was Scully in some kind of danger?

He didn’t know which was worse; Scully messing with his heart or something external and much more sinister at work. His wheels were spinning and he was truly worried they’d gotten themselves directly wrapped up into yet another X file.

He wanted to talk all of this over with her, but until he had something more to go on he had a sneaking suspicion she would either deny anything odd was happening or she would dismiss his theory outright. _Such was life on the X files with Scully_ , he thought. As frustrating as it was, it was familiar. It was _her_. And right now, he could take comfort in that. He wouldn’t want her any other way.

 

 

 

SHADY PALMS CARE COMMUNITY

BOCA RATON, FLORIDA

12:20 PM

 

The assisted living facility in Boca Raton housed about a hundred tenants. The grounds were quaint and pleasant. Mulder generally hated what he thought of as “old folks homes” but this place didn’t give him the feeling he usually got inside these places.  He and Scully hadn’t discussed their plan for this visit yet, and he wondered what she was thinking.

“Do we keep a low profile here? What do you think?” he asked her.

“I think we should,” she replied. “If her husband worked at the hotel, she must have known Roman at some point. Keeping our stories straight would be a good idea just in case they’re still in touch.”

She reached out to take his hand in hers. Mulder nodded in silent agreement, grinning, because every minute he got to pretend Scully was his wife was a good minute.

They were greeted by a nurse who directed them to Mrs. Hodges. She was sitting in a rocking chair by a window in the common room alone, knitting.

“Mrs. Hodges?” Mulder asked gently. She lifted her steely blue eyes to look at him slowly. Mulder hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect. She was certainly old, wrinkled skin and shock-white hair. But her face was gentle and he could see wisdom there.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Are you the same Mrs. Hodges whose husband died at the Excelsior Keys Hotel in 1991?”

She stopped knitting. “Yes,” she said suspiciously. “What’s this about?”

“I’m sorry, this must seem very odd. My name is Darrin and this is my wife, Elizabeth. We’re staying at the hotel and we had some questions. We were wondering if we could have a few minutes of your time.”

“Questions? About what?” She looked apprehensive and Mulder didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but she was the only witness they had to what actually occurred the night Cal Hodges died, short of asking the Fallbrooks themselves. The rest of the victims were tourists, presumably scattered all over the country. They’d be more difficult to track down. He had to try.

“My wife and I heard about some deaths that occurred at the hotel back when your husband passed and we were curious about them. To be honest, we’re a little spooked. We were hoping you could shed some light on it for us.”

She looked him right in the eye. “That place is evil. Something’s not right about it.”

“Yes, that,” Mulder said. “Tell us more about that, if you could.”

“One after another after another it seemed. People just dropping dead in that place.” Mrs. Hodges looked spooked herself. “No one could explain it. I always suspected Roman and Margie were involved but no one could prove a damn thing.” She shook her head. “Easy around the Keys to just chalk it up to ghosts and move on.”

“Do you believe there are ghosts in that hotel, ma’am?” Scully asked gently.

“No such thing as ghosts,” she said flatly. Scully’s eyes shifted to Mulder and he saw her eyebrow go up.

“How do you explain what happened, then?” Mulder asked. “To your husband?”

“Cal liked it there for a while,” Mrs. Hodges said, staring out the window. “He always liked spooky places. But after a few weeks he’d always seem a little bit… _off,_ when he’d return from a job there.”

“Off… in what way?” asked Scully.

Mrs. Hodges shrugged. “The heebie jeebies, he called it. He told me that place gave him the creeps. Mostly Roman and Margie.”

Mulder sat up. “Do you know anything about those two? Because I’ll have to admit, they give me the heebie jeebies myself.”

“Roman used to be a priest. He was laicized by the archdiocese in Miami. Was a real big deal around there, broke his heart. I don’t think he ever really recovered.”

“He was removed from the clergy?” Scully asked. “For what reason?”

“Something about demon possessions and nonsense like that. He was performing exorcisms on members of the parish without permission. Entirely unnecessary. Nearly killed one person.”

“Entirely unnecessary?” Scully prodded.

“Obviously,” Mrs. Hodges scoffed. “No such thing as demons. But I guess those folks believed him.”

Scully stiffened. He looked over at her and she looked very interested. “You mean, these people willingly allowed this? They believed they were possessed?”

“I don’t know the particulars. I do know persuasive people can convince others of just about anything. And Roman is one persuasive son of a bitch.”

Scully’s hand was gripping Mulder’s knee, and it seemed to him she wasn’t entirely aware of it. He instinctively covered her hand with his and squeezed.

“Can you tell us what happened the night your husband died?” he asked. “Were you there?”

She nodded slowly. “I went to pick him up after work like I always did. I always waited in the car outside, never did like going inside. But he didn’t come. So I went to look for him.” She was rocking slowly in her chair, and looked deep in thought. “He was in the maintenance shed, curled up on the floor.”

Mulder leaned forward.

“It was so strange. I almost didn’t recognize him. He… wasn’t himself. His face looked a fright. If I believed in demons I’d think he had something inside him. But I just can’t shake the feeling it was those two.” She shook her head. “And that… place.”

Mulder felt a chill run up his spine. She hadn’t recognized her husband. Could the same thing be happening to Scully?

“Anyway, one second he was alive, and the next he wasn’t. I can’t explain it.”

“What do you think really happened to your husband, Mrs. Hodges, if you don’t mind my asking?” he asked.

She stopped rocking in her chair and looked right at him.

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Mulder smiled. “Try me.”

“I think that place scared him to death.”

She started rocking again and turned her attention back to her knitting. She didn’t say another word.

 

***

 

“What do you think, Scully?” Mulder ventured as they headed to Miami. Scully was digging into a turkey sandwich in the passenger seat. Their communication seminar was at three and they had to eat on the run.

“What do I think? Every sign points to Cal Hodges having simply suffered a heart attack. Just like all the others. The fact that they happened to drop dead in this particular hotel doesn’t change that fact.”

“Yeah, but… this many deaths? You don’t think it’s odd?”

“Of course it’s odd, Mulder. But odd things happen all the time. It could just be some strange coincidences.”

“She said he got scared to death, Scully. Is that possible?”

Scully sighed. “Yes, but it’s rare. Fear triggers your fight or flight response and unleashes adrenaline into your system. If there’s enough to create some kind of disturbance in your heart’s rhythm, it can kill you.”

“Okay, then.” He opened his palms in a _we solved it_ gesture, the replaced them on the steering wheel.

“Come on, Mulder. That’s just the physical explanation. Emotional reactions are an entirely different story. He was _that_ afraid? Of a building? What could have possibly occurred there to scare him so badly it would kill him?”

“Well, Scully, that’s why they put the ‘I’ in-”

“Okay, okay,” she shook her head, smiling.

Mulder grinned, and looked back at the road for a few moments. “I noticed you got a little tense back there when she started talking about demons and exorcisms,” he said. “What was that about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a little strange. We were just watching that movie.” She took another bite of her sandwich.

“It’s only a coincidence, Scully,” he said, mock exasperated. He turned to look at her and she looked back, mouth full.

“Shut up, Mulder,” she said with her mouth full. It sounded more like “sh-mm, Mu-muh.”

He laughed and stared ahead, attempting to shift his focus to the communication seminar. He was secretly dreading their return to Key West and hoped his instincts were wrong; hoped she would be herself when they eventually returned to the hotel.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully attend their seminar, and get to communicating. Finally.
> 
> "She hated that night, she hated thinking about it and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it. This was supposed to be a communication seminar. But Dr. Kosseff was here, and she knew so much about them. This had become personal fast, and how could it not have? Here they sat, side by side, in a psychiatrist's office, finally directly confronting the issues that had torn them apart. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they were in couples’ counseling."

 

F.B.I. FIELD OFFICE

MIAMI, FLORIDA

3:00 PM

 

Scully and Mulder waited in the Miami FBI field office, sitting side by side. They hadn't discussed much after they left Boca Raton, and she'd fallen asleep in the car anyway. Between all the activity going on in the hotel last night and all the sex her body was quickly becoming readjusted to, she was completely exhausted.

She'd debated telling Mulder what Roman said to her last night, but after learning he'd accosted the woman down the hall with the very same information she was starting to suspect it was, in fact, just all part of the experience. And the strangeness she'd felt earlier this morning had completely evaporated since she left the hotel. Her unwillingness to prematurely put Mulder on the wrong track or worry him in some way encouraged her to keep her mouth shut for the time being.

Agents passed in the hallway and nodded at them, and Scully felt a bit uncomfortable. What would happen in this seminar? How many other agents would there be? What exactly would they have to do?

_As long as we don’t have to build a tower of office furniture,_ she thought with a smirk. Although she was certain that would be easier than actually learning how to communicate properly with Mulder.

The door opened and an older woman emerged, and as she drew closer Scully recognized her with equal parts shock and trepidation.

“Dr. Kosseff?” she inquired incredulously.

Dr. Karen Kosseff it was indeed, her face looking just the same. She was only a few years older than Scully but her hair was already gray. She smiled warmly.

“Dana, it’s wonderful to see you again,” she said, reaching for Scully’s hand.

“What are you… how are you… I’m sorry,” Scully said, flustered. “What are you doing in Miami?”

“My family had some… personal issues a few years back. The FBI was happy to transfer me so I could be out here to help.”

“Is everything… okay?” Scully asked. It wasn’t any of her business, she knew, but she felt inclined to ask.

“Everything is fine, thanks for asking.” She turned to Mulder and gave him a friendly smile. “It’s been a long time, Agent Mulder,” she said. She’d only met him once, briefly. He certainly didn’t pick up on it, but to Scully, the _I’ve heard so much about you_ remained hanging in the air like one of those comic strip word balloons.

The last time she and Mulder and Dr. Kosseff were in a room together was in 1995, during another case involving, of all things, demon possession. If Scully encountered one more coincidence like this today she might start believing it all in spite of herself.

Mulder shook the doctor’s hand. “Right, the young boy with the… demonic twin brother, wasn’t it?”

“You say it as if it were so mundane,” Dr. Kosseff pointed out with a smile.

“Well, I wish I could say it wasn’t, but when you’re working our unit...” Mulder trailed off. “The extraordinary can become ordinary.”

“Is that so?” she asked, looking pointedly at Scully. They’d had multiple conversations over the years about her hesitancy to believe despite her near-constant close encounters.

Mulder looked at Scully, questions in his eyes. She’d never told him she went to Dr. Kosseff privately. The last time they’d spoken had been sixteen years ago, back when she was still with the FBI the first time. After Scully left the Bureau to go into hiding with Mulder, she had no more contact with her.

Scully wasn’t sure how to feel about this. “Are you… leading the communication seminar, then?” she asked. “Where are all the other agents?”

“There are no other agents,” Dr. Kosseff explained. “It’s just going to be the three of us. I hope that’s all right.”

Just the three of them? This didn’t feel like a seminar. This felt like couples counseling. And wasn’t this a huge conflict of interest due to her past with Scully? She looked at Mulder warily. He didn’t look too bothered.

“It’s fine with me,” he replied. “Scully?”

“Y-yes, okay.” She didn’t want him to think she was afraid of this. They had to take the course, it wasn’t as if they had a choice. Skinner had made it perfectly clear that…

_Skinner._

“Dr. Kosseff, did AD Skinner set this up, by any chance?”

“Of course,” she said. It wasn’t odd to Dr. Kosseff, nor should it have been. But suddenly everything was making sense to Scully. The first class flight. This ridiculous assignment that forced them to share a hotel room. And finally, what appeared to be a couples counseling session run by a person who knew about her past with Mulder, or at least a great deal of it.

She eyed Mulder, brow raised, and he shrugged. Dr. Kosseff motioned for them to follow her down a hallway. They hung a few feet back.

“Are you getting the sneaking suspicion Skinner might be up to something?” she muttered into his ear.

“Ooh, like what?” Mulder replied. “A Parent Trap?”

Dr. Kosseff arrived at an office door and showed them in. The room was bright, with a sea green leather couch and huge windows that overlooked the city.

“Agent Mulder, I need to share with you in case you weren’t aware, that I used to be Dana’s therapist years ago at the Bureau. I want to make sure it’s okay with you both to proceed. Anything Dana divulged to me will remain strictly confidential,” she said, looking at Scully.

Mulder settled into the couch. He looked extremely relaxed. “It’s fine,” he said amiably. “As long as it’s fine with Scully.”

Dr. Kosseff looked at Scully, who wasn’t entirely sure about this but nodded anyway. Dr. Kosseff had always been a great help to her. Maybe she could help her and Mulder, too.

“It was a long time ago,” she said quietly to Mulder as she sat down next to him. The truth was, the doctor knew quite a lot. Scully had confided to her more than she had to most people. It almost felt unfair that Dr. Kosseff knew so much about Mulder before she’d ever really gotten to know him.

“You two are married now, I see?” She looked up from her paperwork with a smile, but Scully and Mulder shared a look that made the smile disappear quickly.

“Separated?” she corrected.

Scully couldn't contain her discomfort and shifted in her seat. “I… suppose, yes?” Mulder wasn’t saying anything. “We haven’t been together since 2014.”

“Can you tell me what went wrong?”

Mulder exhaled. “Wow. You really cut to the chase, don’t you?”

Scully wasn’t surprised. Dr. Kosseff’s keen insight had only been matched by her bluntness. She looked at him, then back at the doctor.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was the marriage that went wrong or something… else,” she said simply. “Even before that.” Mulder shifted uncomfortably.

“Can you elaborate?”

Scully didn’t know what to say, where to start. How were they getting into this now, in one session? How could they possibly get through the mountain of crap they’d left in their wake? She opened her mouth, and closed it again.

Mulder spoke up. “If you don’t mind, can I say something first?”

“Please,” Dr. Kosseff replied.

“I don’t know what Scully’s told you about me, but I’ve always been a bit of a mess. She probably wouldn’t admit it,” he looked over at her, “but it’s the truth.”

“What do you mean by ‘mess?’” Dr. Kosseff asked.

“Well, I’ve been alone for most of my life. It’s always been comfortable for me to be alone. Then when I met Scully, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. It took me a long time to get used to that, to be comfortable with it. It was new for me, to feel like I could trust someone so completely. ” He scratched his chin. “She was very patient with me for a very long time. I don’t think she’ll ever realize how grateful I am she stuck around with me. And I don’t mean just in our marriage,” he clarified. “Even before. Like she said.”

Scully was surprised at this. It was something she’d always felt but never vocalized, for obvious reasons: that Mulder had never been quite comfortable in the life she really wanted for the two of them. That he was aware of it too was a bit of a revelation to her.

“Not to round down our problems to one issue, because I’m sure we have many," he continued, "but I think one day her patience with me just… ran out.” He looked Scully in the eye. “And I don’t blame her for that.”

She was impressed by his insight, having obviously never discussed any of this before. The reasons they fell apart couldn’t be boiled down to one thing, one excuse, one disaster. It had been a slow buildup over many years that eventually reached a breaking point.

He was right, though. She _had_ lost patience with him. She couldn’t count the nights she lay awake wondering if she’d only given it more time, could they have fixed it? If she stuck around a little bit longer, would the tides have turned?

He probably hadn’t meant to, but he’d stated the real truth: Scully had given up. On him, on them. On all of it. She’d known this for a while but hearing it out loud from Mulder was devastating. She felt incredibly guilty.

“Dana?” Dr. Kosseff asked. “What do you think about what Fox just said?”

She thought for a moment. She didn’t want to hurt Mulder any more than she already had, but somehow she knew now was the time to be honest with him.

“I think… he’s right,” she said slowly.

“And why did you lose your patience, Dana?”

She felt her eyes well up. She hadn’t wanted to admit this to him, ever. She worried it might tarnish what they’d had together all these years, how they always worked together. That it would somehow change the way he loved her; the way he thought she loved him.

“I was tired,” she admitted. “I was tired of coming in second all the time. To his work, to his obsession. I thought it might change when we got married and it just… didn’t. I feared it never would.”

Mulder looked at her, gutted. She knew she had to say it, but she hated the look on his face.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Mulder. I hope you believe me. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Mulder sat in stunned silence. She felt every silent second tick by like it was uncomfortably long. But he said nothing.

Her mind flashed to ten years ago when she'd basically said the same thing to him out of desperation.  _I don't know what else to do._ She hadn't left him, then. She'd stayed and muddled through like always. Every time she felt this way he'd do something or say something that gave her hope that things would change. But as usual, the obsession would take over again and she'd put up with it, again. There came a point when giving up felt like her only option.

Dr. Kosseff let the silence hang in the air just long enough before she spoke again. “I see here you two missed this course, um…” her eyes boggled as she flipped through their files. “Twenty years ago?”

Scully brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. Mulder sighed and raised a hand.

“It was my fault,” he admitted, looking at Scully. “I wanted to chase moth men instead.”

Scully didn’t look at him, just straight at the doctor.

“Uh… huh. Is that right?” Dr. Kosseff asked him. “You didn’t think it was important?”

“I’m sure it was,” Mulder shook his head. “But honestly, I was doing everything I could to avoid it.”

Scully glanced over at him in surprise. “You were? Why?”

Eyeing the doctor, who nodded her encouragement, Mulder turned to Scully. “I was afraid. Afraid of accidentally revealing too much. At the time I wasn’t ready for certain… things… to come out. About how I felt about you. How I’d recently come to realize those feelings.”

“What feelings are you referring to, Fox?” asked Dr. Kosseff.

Scully sighed and sat back into the couch. This was such a joke. Dr. Kosseff knew more about the two of them than she was letting on, and Mulder was most certainly aware of this fact.

He faced Scully. “I guess… I got so close to losing you, that was when I realized I was in love with you. It scared me. You’d almost died.”

“But you weren’t ready to tell Dana about this?” Dr. Kosseff asked.

“I was so sure she didn’t love me back. Of course I know the truth now, we’ve talked about this before.” He flicked his hand up, as if to brush the topic away.

“But you let your fear stop you at the time, you’re saying?”

“I felt…” he searched. Scully had the distinct feeling he was trying to dodge.

“What, Mulder?” she asked. His lips stayed closed and he just stared at the doctor.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he admitted.

Now Scully was desperate. “Please, Mulder, tell me.”

“Fox, this session is supposed to help you both with your communication skills,” Dr. Kosseff said gently. “I understand there are things we sometimes don’t want to talk about but those things are often the very things we need to discuss.”

Scully knew this only too well. Mulder looked pained, tortured, and she couldn’t possibly think he had anything else to hide from her. She was the one between them who typically closed off. What was this all about?

He took a deep breath, then turned to her.

“I never told you this, Scully,” he began. “But that night… the night I discovered that DoD operative spying on me in my apartment building...” he trailed off, searching for the words.

Oh. _That_.

She knew. She’d always known. Skinner had reviewed the surveillance footage afterwards and told her what he’d seen: Mulder had attempted to kill himself.

He’d held a gun to his head and he was crying. This was all she knew but she still remembered Skinner’s face when he revealed it to her. He had been worried about Mulder and told her in confidence, knowing if anyone could get through to him she could. And she should have said something. But he seemed remarkably well after her cancer remission and she hadn’t felt the need to bring it up. The topic sat untouched for years, yet another truth between them they hadn’t discussed.

Mulder’s voice caught in his throat. She knew he didn’t want to display a weakness, and admitting this to her was huge for him.

“I was lost, Scully. I’d just found out you’d been given your cancer because of me. I felt so guilty, and I thought I was going to lose you forever. If you were dying, I wanted to die too. Going on without you… the search felt empty, meaningless.”

She was about to admit she’d known everything but then felt a shiver run up her spine at this admission. She hadn’t known this part.

It never occurred to her that his love for her had motivated his attempted suicide. Lack of purpose? Yes. Being made a fool of? Sure. Learning everything he’d spent his life searching for had been a lie? Absolutely.

Not this. Why had she been so blind to this truth? Had she simply not wanted to believe it?

“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this, Mulder?”

He looked over at her. “I don’t know. We weren’t really in a place for that kind of honesty at the time. And the idea of going to a communication seminar where this stuff might come up terrified me.”

She nodded in understanding. That had been a tricky couple years for them, where they both held back their feelings out of fear and obligation. Telling her something like this would have been unheard of. And like usual with them, the topic had faded into the distance with nary a mention.

“Mulder…” she said. She felt a strong desire to be honest with him. “Skinner told me about this a long time ago. I knew about it, but... I never knew why.”

He looked up at her. “You knew?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry I never told you either.”

He exhaled and she knew by his eyes he wasn’t upset. They needed this, the opportunity to be honest with one another. She knew every passing minute was an opportunity, she wasn’t kidding herself about that. But it was hard for them. It was hard for them then, and it was still hard now.

“I didn’t want you to think of me that way, Scully. As someone who would give up.”

She never had thought of him that way, and she still didn’t. It had been a moment of weakness and he was entitled to that. Especially now, knowing everything that transpired. How much she knew he loved her, how hopeless he must have felt in that moment.

”I don’t think of you that way, Mulder. That’s not you.”

"Why didn't you... ever ask me about it, then?" he asked gently.

In an instant she was reminded of another night she wondered about the time he tried to commit suicide. She’d thought about it again the night of December 22nd, 2012. The night everything terrible between them really began.

She hated that night, she hated thinking about it and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it. This was supposed to be a communication seminar. But Dr. Kosseff was here, and she knew so much about them. This had become personal fast, and how could it not have? Here they sat, side by side, in a psychiatrist's office, finally directly confronting the issues that had torn them apart. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they _were_ in couples’ counseling.

“I think I repressed this knowledge for a long time, until it reared its ugly head again,” she told him. “The night… you know. The night the world didn’t end.”

Dr. Kosseff looked confused. “Pardon?”

Scully shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, not now. It really doesn’t. But what happened to Mulder mattered, a lot.”

She knew Mulder wasn’t stupid. As absent as he seemed to be at times, he had to know that was when their relationship really started to go downhill. When 2012 came and went, he’d gone off the deep end and it had been the last straw for her.

“He just… left me. He was gone.”

It was the first time she’d openly admitted how alone she’d truly felt. And that Mulder had in fact left her long before she left him.

“There was this space between us and it kept widening," she explained. "I didn’t know how to stop it, I didn’t know how to get _us_ back. So I ran.”

They looked at each other and she saw it yet again: that pain in his eyes she never liked to see. But she felt she had no choice. If there was any hope for the two of them, they had to communicate.

“Fox, is there anything you want to say to that?” the doctor asked.

“I guess… just… that I’m so sorry.” Tears were filling his eyes. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way, Scully. I never thought of you as second. I just didn’t. It isn’t the truth.”

She looked at him with tears in her own eyes, and she knew he was being utterly sincere. What _was_ the truth was that their lack of communication is what had ultimately destroyed them and they both knew it. Her hand sought his, warm and welcoming, and it encompassed hers completely.

“I’m sorry too, Mulder. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He nodded and squeezed her hand. Dr. Kosseff smiled, satisfied.

“Dana, Fox, the key to keeping your communication skills strong is to never let them wear out. Obviously, that means practice. I’m sure this may sound silly but it’s key to a successful marriage, or relationship, or even a partnership.”

It did sound silly, but only because they never really took advantage of this philosophy in the past.

“Before we finish here, I want you to each tell each other one thing you feel that the other doesn’t know. Do you think you can do that?”

She wanted to talk to him. They had to start somewhere.

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll go.” She turned in her seat to face him and as she looked at him she felt a sense of calm come over her. She wanted to tell him this.

“The other night at the St. Rachel, when we were…” she flushed a bit, glancing at Dr. Kosseff, then back to him. “You know. You said you missed me, that you thought about me all the time.”

He nodded at her. He’d said it while they were having sex, right before he came, in fact, but that tidbit was probably best kept between them.

“Well, I should have said it back to you, and I didn’t. I've missed you too, Mulder. And I’ve thought about you often.”

His smile was warm and his eyes were soft. For a moment she couldn’t believe she ever went a day without him, let alone years.

“Fox?” Dr. Kosseff urged. “Something Dana doesn’t know?”

“I guess… it’s that _I_ know," he smiled. "I know, Scully. I always knew.”

She was so relieved he hadn’t thought she hated him, that all these years he wasn’t secretly despising her or resenting her for leaving him. She felt the calm continue, the strange sensation that here and now with him was exactly where she was supposed to be. It had been a long time since she’d felt such utter certainty. She squeezed his hand and nodded, smiling back.

“This isn’t the end for you two,” Dr. Kosseff said. “Far from it. You’re only required to be here once. But I urge you both to make an effort moving forward to be more honest and open with one another.”

Scully looked at him and hoped they could. Dr. Kosseff had one more thing to say.

“Tell each other the truth. I think the truth is what will save you both.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [December 22nd, 2012.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810795/chapters/38950358)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mulder, what is happening to me?”
> 
> He held her close and rubbed her shoulders. “I don’t know, Scully. But at the risk of sounding insensitive, I have to say I’m kind of enjoying this particular affliction of yours.”
> 
> He could feel her smiling and could tell she knew he was just trying to make her feel better. She held onto him even tighter. For a minute he wondered if she really was possessed somehow, that maybe this place actually was haunted by some evil spirit and it had found its way into her, stoking her fear, making her behave unnaturally. But he dismissed this, knowing she was still here, his Scully was still the person sitting next to him.

 

 

 

 

When the session was over, they drove back to the Keys. There wasn’t much talking on the ride back, but it didn’t feel awkward like it had coming home from Henrico County; it felt hopeful. They were sharing each other’s company in silence, but Mulder knew it was because they were both busy thinking, hard.

He reached for her hand and took it, smiling gently, and she smiled back. He wasn’t mad or resentful. He wanted to move forward. There seemed to be real, actual hope for the two of them again and he felt a sense of calm wash over him.

He had been harboring such guilt for what happened to Scully over the years, but hadn’t ever truly articulated this to her. He knew expressing his regret meant implying he wished they’d never met at all, and he couldn’t get there, not really, because meeting her and loving her had been the greatest thing to happen to him in his life. She’d said to him before on multiple occasions that she wouldn’t change a thing, that she would do everything all over again. She felt this way because she loved him. He had been worth it all for her, worth everything.

Until he wasn’t.

Thinking about her helplessness, how he must have made her come to such a terrible realization made him feel ill. The fact that she thought she came in second in his eyes when he knew it was not the truth meant their communication skills truly had left something to be desired over the years.

They’d taken another step forward today by simply agreeing to talk about it, and he was grateful they had. Maybe they could find a way to make this work, to rid themselves of the ghosts of their past. But as usual for them, even great leaps would feel like baby steps.

When they drew nearer to the hotel Mulder suddenly became aware they were headed back into the fray, so to speak, and he was concerned that Weird Clingy Scully was going to return. He planned to be vigilant but he also had things to say to her that he wanted to say before they returned, just in case.

“Want to go get some air?” he asked her, and she nodded.

He parked near Front street, next to the ocean, and they walked around outside for a while. They decided to get dinner at a local restaurant. The dining area was outdoors, lanterns hanging all around, soft music playing. It was relaxing and romantic, two bullet points he was glad to hit.

After a few minutes of silence only broken by ordering their food, he decided it was time to start talking. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the romantic atmosphere but a he felt a tiny spark of courage within him.

“What did I do, Scully?” he asked. “What made you feel like I put you second?”

He wasn’t stupid. He’d spent a great deal of time replaying their downfall over the past few years and was well aware of his faults, well aware of how he’d failed her. He wasn’t prepared to blame it on his illness, or on alien colonization (or the lack thereof), or on her. He was in control of his own life and he let her slip away from him. But he wanted to hear it, actually hear her say the words. Why had she left him, after everything?

She looked taken aback, probably to be confronted by such a question so directly. But he knew he’d done the right thing when she sighed, and he saw a look swim into her eyes that meant she was prepared to be absolutely sincere.

“We spent so many years together chasing your truth. But after a while I realized I’d found my truth already, in you. I wanted to stop looking, and you didn’t.” It really was that simple. They’d wanted different things in her mind. “It was my turn, Mulder.”

He saw tears in her eyes and he knew exactly what she meant. Twenty years of following him, indulging him, giving up everything in her life for him. He hadn’t given that back to her and he knew he never could. But he also hadn’t tried, not really. He was about to ask her why she hadn’t communicated this to him but the truth was, she had. He hadn’t listened.

 _We are two people who come home now, to a home,_ she’d said to him nearly ten years ago. _I don’t want that darkness in my home._

Why hadn’t he listened? He’d stubbornly refused to change and even then she told him that behavior was exactly why she loved him. She was hopelessly stuck in a never ending catch 22 with him and he hadn’t seen it, he refused to see that it was time to stop. It was time to let go, to move on.

What was so wrong with change, anyway? He certainly wanted things to change now.

He nodded at her response, indicating he understood. It _was_ her turn. It should have been her turn a long time ago.

“It may not mean much now, but I want you to know that my actions and behavior were very different than what was in my heart,” he said carefully. “I’m not excusing any of it, but... it’s important to me that you know. You _know_ the love was always there, Scully. Always.”

She nodded, and held both of his hands across the table. “I know that, Mulder. I do.”

The fundamental importance of what he was trying to communicate to her overrode everything else: the case, the sex, everything. So he simply leaned in across the table to kiss her forehead, a gesture that would always mean the same thing, a gesture that hadn’t been tarnished by years of baggage and hurt. It meant he cherished her. And it was one thing that had never, ever changed.

 

EXCELSIOR KEYS HOTEL

KEY WEST, FLORIDA

10:13 PM

 

When they got back to the hotel it was late. Mulder again noticed the instant they entered the building she drew nearer to him, clutching his arm tightly, as if she was worried he’d leave her side. When they entered the room she still wouldn’t let go.

“Mulder, can you… come in the bathroom while I get ready?”

“Scully, what is going on?” he asked her. “Why are you being so clingy? It’s not like you at all.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, I just know you need to stay next to me. I’m afraid of what will happen if you don’t.”

“Scully.” He peeled her off him and faced her, gripping her shoulders. “You will be fine. I will be fine. I’m not leaving this room, okay?”

The fear in her eyes was real, and it scared him. What was happening? What sort of malignant influence was she under in this hotel that would make her so terrified of being separated from him? He wanted to do something, he just didn’t know what to do.

She nodded and let him go reluctantly, her eyes never leaving his.

“I’m leaving the door open,” she said.

“Fine,” he replied. She went into the bathroom and he could hear her brushing her teeth, doing everything she needed to get ready for bed. Every minute or so she would poke her head out to make sure he was still there. Mulder changed into his sweatpants and a T shirt and plunked down onto the couch. He flipped the television on and to his surprise, _The Exorcist_ was on again.

“Hey Scully?”

“Yeah?”

He made a face. “Is it weird that _The Exorcist_ is on TV again tonight?”

She poked her head out. “Really?”

“Marathon, maybe?”

Scully came back out in her pajamas and stood right next to him. “For this long? Mulder, the only movie that can pull that off is _A Christmas Story_ and that’s because everyone is drunk and happy on Christmas.”

The movie was ending. They waited and sure enough, it started again immediately. He attempted to change the channel but every single one was showing the same thing. They were stuck with this.

He studied the back of the television. There was no cord coming out, so the movie must have been being transmitted wirelessly.

“It’s the only thing on. Something weird is going on with the TV.”

“The couple from last night… they were watching it too, weren’t they?” Scully remarked.

“Yeah, they were,” he said.

“So… does that mean it’s playing constantly, like this, in every room?”

He looked at the screen. “Possibly. Not ideal for a relaxing vacation in the Keys,” he quipped.

“Mulder…” she started, then stopped.

“What?”

She hesitated, but luckily he didn’t have to press. “Do you think this could have anything to do with what’s happening to me? And what happened to Alyse? Or any of the others?”

He scratched his head. “If it did, why aren’t I affected? I watched it, too,” he pointed out. “And Cal Hodges didn’t die in front of a television.”

“No, he didn’t,” she acquiesced. “Then what’s this all about, Mulder?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He really didn’t. They’d seen something similar before with subliminal messaging. But this seemed too specific, too localized. Whatever it was seemed to be affecting Scully in a way it hadn’t affected him.

He clicked off the television and sat back down on the couch. She sat next to him and held onto his arm again, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Mulder- I hesitated to tell you this,” Scully said suddenly, “but in the interest of being more honest and open with each other, I think I should.” She took a deep breath. “I... experienced something last night. Something I can’t really explain.”

“Ooh, a close encounter, Scully? Now we’re in my wheelhouse,” he chuckled, and he could feel her smiling into his neck.

“I heard… noises. They were real, Mulder. And you couldn’t hear them.”

“What kind of noises?”

“Like… a thumping noise. It was loud and you didn’t even wake up. It was as if only I could hear it.”

“That’s a little freaky.”

“And then… I laid down next to you, Mulder. I watched you sleeping and I touched your face and felt this… I don’t know. It was physical, like a shock, this energy between us. Then I felt nauseated and had to run to the bathroom. I felt sick.”

“Are you kidding me, Scully?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t know what to make of it, so I tried to go back to sleep, but then… something else happened.”

“Linda Blair crawled out of the television?”

“Roman came by the room.”

“In the middle of the night?”

She nodded. “He said… that I had demons inside me and he wanted to give me an exorcism. Just like he told Alyse.”

Mulder gaped at her. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t you wake me?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know what to think, Mulder. I thought he was just messing around. Trying to scare me. Give us our money’s worth.”

It didn’t surprise him she hadn’t shared any of this, not really. Avoidance was just one of her many talents.

“What do you think it all means?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but it overwhelmed me in that moment I touched you, this… fear of leaving your side. I couldn’t explain it then and I can’t explain it now,” she admitted. “I just… thought you should know what’s going on with me. As best as I can tell.” She moved an arm across his chest and pulled herself into him more tightly. “Mulder, what is happening to me?”

He held her close and rubbed her shoulders. “I don’t know, Scully. But at the risk of sounding insensitive, I have to say I’m kind of enjoying this particular affliction of yours.”

He could feel her smiling and could tell she knew he was just trying to make her feel better. She held onto him even tighter. For a minute he wondered if she really was possessed somehow, that maybe this place actually was haunted by some evil spirit and it had found its way into her, stoking her fear, making her behave unnaturally. But he dismissed this, knowing she was still here, his Scully was still the person sitting next to him.

“What do we do, Mulder?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe it's time talk to the Fallbrooks directly. Feel them out. Maybe get some information on his past as a priest?”

“And until then?”

He squeezed her tighter. “Well, until then, I’ll just make sure you’re right next to me all the time. Just in case. Okay?”

She nodded.

“That Dr. Kosseff sure knows her stuff, huh?” he said, in an effort to lighten the mood. He couldn’t help but be curious about her relationship with Scully.

Scully nodded. “What are the odds of running into her today of all days, Mulder? That Holvey case, do you remember it?”

“I do,” he nodded. The case Dr. Kosseff had been involved with wasn’t a case that had faded in his memory. It was one of the most disturbing things he’d ever witnessed, and why he hadn’t been so quick as Scully was to dismiss the possibility of demon possession. He didn’t believe in an omnipresent God, but he’d certainly witnessed what appeared to be a successful exorcism, and it stuck with him. And the leader of the Calusari had said something to him after the ritual was over that he certainly hadn’t forgotten.

_It is over, for now. But you must be careful. It knows you._

The Calusari believed evil followed evil, and although that particular evil appeared to be vanquished from within the young boy, Mulder had been left unsettled. Evil might still follow, and neither innocence nor vigilance could protect anyone from it. This incident had crossed his mind just the other day, when he and Scully were discussing evil in their Henrico County motel room.

Was that evil here, now, in this hotel, two decades later? Had it followed him here? And if so, why was it only affecting Scully?

“How long have you known Dr. Kosseff?” he asked.

“Oh, pretty much since I started at the FBI. She was a great help to me over the years. Especially when-”

She stopped abruptly and Mulder turned his head to look at her. She couldn’t be referring to their breakup, could she? She said they hadn’t spoken in years.

“Especially when… what, Scully?”

She sighed. Clearly it was something she hadn’t meant to reveal.

“When… you died.”

He let that sink in for a moment, his death and Scully’s subsequent grieving, yet another topic they’d rarely discussed. It pained him to think of her hurting in that way because of him. He knew it hadn’t really been his fault, but he _had_ suffered a moment of weakness by stepping into that beam of light beneath the spaceship. He had gone back to Oregon without her all those years ago. So many things could be different had he himself chosen differently. Choices he’d made and their consequences were something he’d been ruminating about a lot lately.

He wasn’t sure which had been more cruel: Scully having to grieve his loss for three months or his own experience of actually dying, reanimating, then having to learn of her grief when he returned. Every time he wondered about this the answer always ended up being the same: her pain was worse. It was always worse.

“It was unimaginable, Mulder,” she said, as if she was reading his mind. “I didn’t know how to go on without you, I really didn’t. But... I had to.”

She didn’t elaborate but he didn’t want her to, not really. He understood. She’d been pregnant at the time.

“Now that I think about it, that’s the feeling I’ve been having ever since this morning,” she said. “That exact, awful feeling. And it only went away after we left the hotel.”

“I think Mrs. Hodges was right,” Mulder said. “There’s something here, in this place. Maybe it has some kind of hold over you, Scully.”

“What kind of hold, Mulder? Are you talking about evil again?” she grinned.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but if evil is making you want to touch me all the time, I can’t deny I’m becoming a fan.”

She sighed and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Look around, Scully. Look at our room. Demons are everywhere. Roman seems to be obsessed with them, doesn’t he?” Mulder pointed out. “I mean, the crucifixes, his past in the clergy. What happened to him there. Not to mention his apparent fascination with seventies horror films,” he gestured to the television. “And now, what he said to you last night.”

“Maybe he just… really believes in it?” Scully suggested. “He believes it, so he sees it everywhere, in everyone.”

“That’s a bit unhealthy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mulder,” she smiled, an eyebrow up. “It is.” She looked at him meaningfully and he nodded in recognition.

“Point taken.”

She squeezed his knee and he covered her hand with his own.

“Can you ever forgive me, Scully?” he asked softly.

“I already have,” she replied.

 

***

 

 _“So…_ _I was thinking maybe we could get a couple hours in before checkout time?_ _”_

_He gives her that grin that always worked in the past. He’s certainly changed, but he knows how she still likes her Mulder. He doesn’t want to push, but she’s left him wanting more. He suspects she’s left them both wanting more._

_Her eyebrow lifts suggestively, toying with him. Twenty five years behind them and she can still do things to him with one look._

_“I’m just talking about getting some shut-eye,” he covers, although it isn’t a cover and they both know it._

_"I’m glad to hear that, Mulder,” she says, her voice dropping an octave, her eyes never leaving his._

_“I guess I should hit the hay,” he grins, stalling. Waiting._

_"Okay.”_

_“_ _But if you need anything, you just call me._ _”_

_“I can’t imagine that I will,” she drawls. Her words are saying one thing but her voice is oozing desire. He hopes beyond hope she isn’t actually shutting him down because everything she’s saying right now is making him hard._

_He nods, trying not to appear too rejected. He turns and closes the door behind him, instantly switching on the television, and leans back against the door for a second. He exhales a breath and for some reason he starts counting. He counts backwards from ten and by the time he reaches liftoff he’s turned to face the door and she is opening it, a smirk on her face and a goddamn twinkle in her eyes._

_She’s perfect and she wants him. It’s all he’s needed for so long. This time he approaches her first, quickly, ravenous. When their mouths meet again her hands tear his shirt open, the shirt he’d carefully unbuttoned in the car before he walked into the motel room. He thought it was probably silly at the time but hey… who’s laughing now? It actually makes a ripping sound, audible evidence of how badly she wants his clothes off and he grins and chuckles, shrugging his shirt off completely, pulling her into him even tighter._  

_He’d been inside her a little less than four hours ago but it’s felt even longer than the four years that preceded it. And this time means even more than last time, because this time cannot be chalked up to a mistake, or a slip, or giving into simple urges._

_She jumps up into him and he catches her, and she wraps her legs around his waist. They are perfectly in sync, on the same page, and they are laughing, smiling, having fun. They don’t have to be serious like they were earlier; the pressure is off._

_He walks straight back into her room and slams her into the wall, hard, and she yelps, a loud yelp that melts into a laugh. Her heels dig into his glutes and she grinds against him, pulling him in, her fingers clutching at the back of his neck as they both fall deeper and deeper. He kisses her face, every freckle he’s memorized over the years and revisited in his fantasies since she left. He hasn’t been close enough to see her freckles in years. Even last night, it was too dark._

_He doesn’t want to spoil the mood by all this laughing and smiling but he can’t help it; he’s just so happy, finally. He’d almost forgotten what being happy felt like._

_“Hey, Mulder?” she says with a mouthful of earlobe._

_“Yeah?” he replies._

_“I think sleep is overrated, don’t you?”_

_He laughs. “Definitely.”_

_And they don’t sleep, not for hours. The wall, the easy chair, the bed._

_Oh... the bed._

_They shake the pictures on the walls and now, reliving it all in his eidetic memory he remembers how the headboard must have broken. He was too focused on her laugh at the time; that glorious sound that brings his world back into focus._

_The night comes back to him in snippets, just images, moments he won’t soon forget. Her fingers twirling in the hair at his nape. Her breath, hot and panting in his ear as he moves inside her. The way she says his name, over and over, letting him know she’s missed him too, despite not having said it._

_She leans over him, radiant, her hair falling into his face. She looks happy too, and he feels such relief, such satisfaction, as if her smile is the very truth he sought. Why hadn’t he stopped looking after he’d found that? What else could possibly be worth searching for?_

_He’ll remember everything about this but her smile he will remember most of all. He’s missed this, just smiling and having fun with her. Just laughing and holding each other and being near one another again._

_He’s dreaming, and it’s a good dream, a wonderful dream. But it’s the best kind of dream when it’s a reality._

 

***

 

Mulder woke up, darkness around him. It was the middle of the night and she was gone. This time, it was his turn to be terrified.

“Scully..?” He threw the covers off and ran to the bathroom, looking everywhere. She was nowhere in the room.

He found his weapon on the nightstand and pulled on some clothes, heading out into the hallway to search for her. She wouldn't leave his side willingly. What had happened? Had someone actually taken her from the bed without him waking up? Had she been led away by some inexplicable external power?

The lobby was empty, a sign at the front desk read “Call manager with concerns.” And then he heard a muffled sound that was definitely screaming.

Scully screaming.

He tilted his head towards the noise which seemed to be coming from beneath the floorboards. On nothing more than a Mulder Hunch, he rounded the desk and examined the area. He soon found what he thought he might; a secret door beneath the desk. He yanked it open to find a narrow staircase, which he followed. The screaming continued and he began to panic.

“ _Scullaaaaay!!_ ” he shouted. She didn’t shout back. Wherever she was, she couldn't hear him. Then he passed a door that was slightly ajar. A strong odor emanated from the room, and he peered inside.

If the local PD wanted probable cause, it was in this room. Besides the fact that Scully had most certainly been abducted from her own hotel room by these people, what he saw here was nothing short of a ritualistic crime investigator’s wet dream. There were candles, incense, and what appeared to be a small apothecary set up on a table. Two dead chickens were laid out on a slab, feathers and blood everywhere. And perhaps most incriminating, there were photographs of hotel guests scattered around.

Including one of Scully.

He picked up the photograph and studied it. It was definitely her, with her head on what he could only assume was his own shoulder. Was that… the couch in their room? She was looking directly at the camera, her eyes wide. It suddenly occurred to him there might be a reason the Fallbrooks had such control over every television in the building.

Trying not to think about what else they might have seen while spying on them, he shuddered and snapped a few pictures of the scene on his phone, planning to return. He pocketed the picture and dialed the Key West Police Department, letting them know they had their evidence and to hurry as a federal agent was in danger. He hung up the phone and drew his weapon again, walking slowly around the room.

He wasn’t expecting to find Scully in here, but he did find Margie Fallbrook. Alone on the floor next to the staircase, she appeared to be muttering incantations to herself. She didn’t seem to notice Mulder had entered.

“Put your hands up,” he commanded. She continued talking to herself and did nothing. “Hands! Up! Now!”

Margie looked up at him and slowly raised her hands. She was holding another photograph, which he couldn’t quite see in the dark.

“Where is she?!” he shouted, his gun aimed directly at her. “Where is my wife?”

“Stopping me will do nothing,” she said, her folksy accent gone. “The evil still remains. And it lives in her.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. The woman was clearly off her rocker but now she was talking specifically about Scully. “What did you do to her?!”

“I did nothing. It’s the evil in this place. Your wife knows, you can ask her.”

“What the hell is all this?” he asked, pointing to the photographs with his gun. “What are you doing with all this down here?”

“I only choose the vessel,” she continued. “They are the ones who fill it with their own despair, their own fear.”

“Those people didn’t ask for this,” he said, incredulous. “They didn’t want to die.”

“They wanted a scare,” she rebutted. “And we’re the best in the business.”

Mulder looked at her, amazed. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. People had murdered for far less. And as long as she was getting away with it and the tourists were pouring in, perhaps she didn’t care if people died.

Suddenly he felt a change within him, an odd feeling washing over him as if someone had doused him in lighter fluid and set him aflame. It hurt everywhere, all over, and he wanted to scream but instead he stood stock still, too terrified to move. He had only one thought.

_Scully. Where is she?_

He thought he wanted to find her before, but now he needed to find her more than he needed to breathe. He imagined her in danger and all he knew was he needed to get to her or he himself would die.

 _“Tell me where Scully is!”_ he screamed.

Margie didn’t seem to notice or care he’d called her by a different name. He moved closer to her, panicked, the gun pointed at her face. As he pulled out his cuffs and began to cuff her to the staircase she said nothing, but he suddenly noticed the subject of the photograph in her hand.

It was him.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully finds herself in a bind.
> 
>  
> 
> "She knew an unaffected, rational Dana Scully would typically dismiss this idea when it was happening to someone else. But right now it was happening to her. Everything that ever left an imprint on her regarding her Catholic upbringing was surging to the forefront of her mind and she wanted to fight it, she wanted to cast it out, so to speak. But it was powerful."

****  
  
_Darkness_.

She didn’t remember much, only that she heard the loud thumping again that Mulder couldn’t hear. She was petrified but felt a strong compulsion to seek out the source. She opened the door and then… darkness.

She was so goddamn tired of darkness.

The fear she felt now was intense and coursed through her veins like IV fluid. It burned and chilled her at the same time and her only thoughts besides the inky black she found herself in were of Mulder and how he was no longer next to her.

She couldn’t understand this pervasive fear she’d been feeling inside this place. She knew it was irrational, just like the idea of a malignant evil presence causing Chucky and Judy Poundstone to make her see her own doppelgänger. She survived half her life without knowing Mulder, and she certainly survived the past few years with him outside her presence entirely.

It had been difficult to survive without him, however. She’d been focused for so long on the things she needed from him that he wasn’t giving, and her concerns had been valid. She believed this now, even with the benefit of hindsight. But she couldn’t deny the years she’d lived without him had been the most lonely and desolate of her life. It was bad before she left, very bad. But it was even worse after.

Had she and Mulder been doomed to fail from the beginning? They never could seem to catch a break. She wondered if this was true for other couples; if the light their partner brought to their life was constantly mirrored by some oppressive shroud, imposing and unrelenting. Granted, their situation had been rather unique, and a lot of it was due to matters beyond their control. But she knew the truth; the things that broke her and Mulder apart were almost entirely of their own making.

Lying here now in some unknown location in absolute blackness should have been terrifying. But it wasn’t the fact that she’d most certainly been kidnapped, tied up, and held against her will that scared her out of her mind.

It was only the absence of Mulder that shook her to her core.

In this moment she believed his theory that the hotel had some kind of power over her. She rationalized it was easier to believe some external force was causing this fear rather than the very troubling notion she was actually this frightened of being apart from him.

Her eyes were starting to adjust and she thought she saw candlelight from some distant corner. The room was cold and her wrists and ankles were tied, her arms attached to the wall behind her somehow, her ankles to the floor.

“You’ll be fine now, don’t worry,” she heard, footsteps shuffling towards her. She didn’t recognize the voice at first, so all-encompassing was Mulder in her thoughts. She forgot she was supposed to be undercover and let his name escape.

“M-Mulder…”

The movement stopped.

“Mulder!” she called, louder.

“It speaks in tongues!” the voice said. She finally recognized it as Roman’s.

 _Of course,_ she thought. Of course she’d wind up in this creep’s basement. How could she have thought otherwise?

“I know Elizabeth Petersen is in there somewhere, and I’d like to speak to her now, please,” Roman said in a steady voice. She could see his silhouette but the room was dark.

“Um,” Scully said. She wasn’t sure what was going on or what the right thing to say in this scenario was. Mulder was her primary concern. Find him first, then figure out what was going on.

“Where- where is my husband?” She forgot his undercover name for a moment. “Darrin, where is he?”

“Don’t worry about that right now, I’ll take good care of you, okay? You’re going to be fine, Elizabeth.”

She felt cold water hit her face, not a lot, just a sprinkling of it.

“What are you doing, Roman?” she asked. The guy was clearly nuts and she didn’t want to make him do anything rash, so she was trying to keep her voice calm.

“What needs to be done,” he answered. Then to her great confoundment he began to pray. “God, whose nature is ever merciful and forgiving, accept our prayer that this servant of yours, bound by the fetters of sin, may be pardoned by your loving kindness.”

 _Oh, my god._ Was he performing an exorcism on her?

“Roman, I am not possessed. You’re making a mistake,” she said as calmly as she could. She wasn’t really in a position to convince him she was not, in fact, possessed by demons. Even as the words came out of her mouth she knew he’d assume it was exactly what the devil might say.

He continued, unfettered. “Let your mighty hand cast this evil presence out of your servant, Elizabeth Petersen, so he may no longer hold captive this person whom it pleased you to make in your image, and to redeem through your Son; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever. Amen.”

He sounded so calm, kind, even. If he wanted to kill her, certainly he could find another way. Suddenly everything started to make the tiniest bit of sense. Roman wasn’t killing people, he was trying to help them. As misguided as his intentions were, they didn't seem to be bent towards murder.

So how were all these people dying?

Roman kept sprinkling what Scully could only assume was holy water on her and for a moment she wondered what would happen if she just went with this, if she just let him do his thing. Closed her eyes and waited for Mulder to show up and for everything to just stop.

But somewhere deep inside her she was afraid of Roman, afraid of this. She’d never believed in demons, or possession, or any of it. At least, not as an adult. But her fear right now was real and she couldn’t explain it. What if she _did_ have some strange evil presence inside her? She certainly hadn’t felt like herself all day.

She knew an unaffected, rational Dana Scully would typically dismiss this idea when it was happening to someone else. But right now it was happening to her. Everything that ever left an imprint on her regarding her Catholic upbringing was surging to the forefront of her mind and she wanted to fight it, she wanted to cast it out, so to speak. But it was powerful. And just then she felt a burning sensation on her throat, as if her skin was on fire. She couldn’t do anything about it; her hands and arms splayed out and restrained to both sides. It burned and her eyes widened with realization.

Her cross necklace.

She cried out in pain and screamed at Roman to help her. “My necklace! Take it off, it burns! Please!”

He must have been doing this, she thought, he must have some localized heat source he was pointing at her to make this happen, to trick her into thinking this was happening. She was grateful in this instant that the rational part of her mind was in fact still functioning.

The pain was so intense she heard herself screaming, when suddenly the pain stopped instantly as Roman pulled the pendant from her throat and tossed it across the room.

“You see?” he said quietly, his face close to hers. “You see, now?”

She could feel warm tears rolling down her cheeks as the intensity of the situation finally hit her. She was completely under this maniac’s control, regardless of what was actually happening, regardless of what she believed. And Mulder was nowhere to be found.

“Please… Roman…” she again said, with as calm a voice as she could. “My name is Dana Scully. I’m an FBI agent. You have the wrong person, the wrong idea. Please let me go.”

“That’s just them demons talking,” he said. “They lie. They’re tricksters, but they can’t trick me. So just relax, little lady, and let me help you.”

She tugged at the restraints but it was no use. Her wrists were raw, and her neck was sore from her position. She was utterly helpless and she hated this, hated that she was relying on Mulder to show up and rescue her. But before she had a chance to hate this idea too much, she heard his voice echoing through the darkness and relief flooded over her.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop right there,” she heard him say.

She couldn’t see him but she could vaguely tell from which direction his voice came and the alleviation she experienced was divine. It washed over her like a cleansing wave and she sank back and relaxed into the feeling. _He’s here,_ she heard her own voice echoing in her head.

_He’s here._

She heard the sound of his safety clicking off and his voice came closer and closer.

“Roman Fallbrook, you’re under arrest,” he said calmly, mirandizing him and cuffing him. Roman didn’t resist physically, but as Mulder cuffed him to the staircase of the basement he continued to recite the exorcism rite.

“I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your fell companions; in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ!”

Mulder stared at him for a second, then ran to Scully, his hand on her face, checking her for injuries.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded.

“Get me out of this,” she said quickly, trying hard to keep her composure. He untied her as quickly as possible. Not caring about her pride or vulnerability or anything else in the moment, she flung her arms around his neck, just holding him. She had no idea what was really going on in this basement but she did know Mulder was here, her anchor, her true north. It made everything less scary, as it usually did.

“It’s okay, Scully, I’m here,” he said gently, stroking her hair. Mulder held her tightly to him, and it seemed he was just as relieved to have found her as she was to have been found. She allowed them both a few seconds of this indulgence before she heard Roman still mumbling to himself and pulled away. They still needed to get to the bottom of this mystery.

“Can you call for backup?” she asked.

“Already did,” he assured her, as he helped her up.

He turned to Roman, cuffed to the staircase. “What did you do to her?!” he shouted. Roman just stared at them blankly.

“Did you hurt her? _Answer me!_ ” Mulder yelled. His passion, when aimed at something worthwhile, was something about the old Mulder she was happy to see still existed.

Scully took him by the forearm and gently pulled him away.

“I think… I think he thought he was helping me,” she explained. “He’s unwell, Mulder.”

“You think?!” Mulder exclaimed.

“No, I mean… I think Roman might be a victim, too,” she said.

“What? Scully, he kidnapped you!”

Scully wanted to explain to him that it wasn’t what Roman did that really hurt her; it was mostly the fear she’d experienced when she’d been separated from Mulder. It was that same fear she'd felt when he wasn't near that had truly affected her.

“I know, and he should suffer consequences for that,” she acknowledged. “But… I think he’s just... afraid, Mulder.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of the devil, I think,” she said. “Afraid of demons. He believed I was possessed. He believes in it all so thoroughly that this place is having an effect on him as well.”

Mulder looked at her. She could tell he was dying to ask if she was, in fact, possessed.

“I’m not possessed, Mulder,” she said, an eyebrow raised. “Okay?”

“Then what the hell is going on here, Scully?” Mulder asked.

She explained the best way she knew how. “I think… somehow, some way, this place has a way of making fear physically affect people. In some cases, the fear was so intense it led to their deaths.”

Mulder looked at her. “Are you saying it’s true, then? That all these victims were actually scared to death?”

She nodded. “I don’t know exactly how or why. But I can tell you it’s real.”

He looked at her in amazement, and she realized entertaining such a theory was unusual for her. But they weren’t getting any younger, and she simply didn’t have time for bullshitting.

“It would explain the lack of a real cause of death in every single one of those cases,” she pointed out.

He nodded, and opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again. He gestured to Roman.

“What about this guy, then?” Mulder asked. “And his wife? They’ve been targeting you, Scully. And Alyse and the others. I found another room down the hall with enough evidence to put these two away.”

“Evidence of what?”

“Some kind of witchcraft. Surveillance and harassment, at the very least. Murder at most.” He turned back to Roman. “Are you a part of this? Did you kill those people?”

“I don’t think he killed anyone, Mulder,” Scully said, rubbing her wrists.

“It's his wife, then. She’s figured out a way to direct the evil in this place into others. And she’s allowed it because it keeps this place on the map as one of the most haunted hotels in the Keys.”

“Margie’s sick,” Roman piped up. “Them demons made her do it. She didn’t kill no one. Margie just tried to scare ‘em.”

“By targeting them?” Mulder asked. “Preying on their fears? You should have stopped her after someone died,” he said. “I don’t understand how you could let this happen.”

Roman looked desperate and very upset. But he said nothing. Suddenly Scully knew the truth.

“He couldn't stop her, Mulder. He’s too afraid of losing her.”

Mulder looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“This place, the fear it evokes. It’s not just any fear, it’s your worst fear. And Roman fears being separated from his wife. He couldn’t turn her in, he’d lose her forever.”

“It can’t be her, it can’t be… it’s gotta be the demons. She wouldn’t do this,” Roman cried.

Scully knelt down to Roman’s level. “Roman, I understand how you feel right now, I do. But if your wife is hurting people, it’s our job to make it stop. We need to take her down to the station if she’s a danger to others.”

“You can’t take her away from me, you can’t!” he shouted. His legs seemed to give way and he sobbed against the wall, utterly helpless.

"If we take Margie out of this place, the killings will stop, Roman,” Scully said. “Isn’t that what you want? For people to stop getting sick?”

He looked up at her and she wasn’t quite sure if he believed her or not. Maybe he thought she was the devil, or maybe he just didn’t care. But he replied anyway.

“I’m afraid,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “I know you are. But it’s an irrational fear.”

 

***

 

Two police cruiser doors closed and both separately took Roman and Margie Fallbrook down to the station. Law enforcement swept the basement and although Mulder was met with a much expected look of skepticism from the chief when he mentioned witchcraft, the photographs were quite convincing, and they located all the evidence they needed to charge Margie Fallbrook with the murders of nine hotel guests over the past thirty years.

One piece of collected evidence, Scully’s cross necklace, was found and returned to her.

“What do you think will happen to this place, Scully?” Mulder asked her as they stood outside the hotel.

She shrugged. “I think… whoever ends up running it will still have the scariest hotel in the Keys,” she suggested. “Just with a little less murder.”

He put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder a bit.

“How did you find me, Mulder?” she asked.

“I heard you, from somewhere down below. I followed the noise.”

“Yeah, but…” she thought of the tiny bell desk. “How did you find that door?”

“You know me, Scully,” he said. “Always starting with the least likely possibility.”

It was all the explanation she would get right now, and she supposed it didn’t really matter. She leaned into him, and as happy as she was that she was safe and he was next to her, she knew that whatever strange force Margie was exerting over her was gone. The fear had left her, as if whatever evil presence she’d contained had indeed been cast out.

She took his hand and felt hope once again.

 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully start over.
> 
> "She looked at him with an understanding they both needed to come to. Everything they’d talked about, all the truths they’d uncovered in their counseling session were evidence that simply splitting up hadn’t worked for the two of them. Something was still here between them and they knew it. They were bound forever. Both their fears of losing that bond was only further confirmation there was hope for them."

 

FOUR SEASONS HOTEL

MIAMI, FLORIDA

 

“That was Skinner,” Mulder said as he clicked off his phone. Scully was resting on a lounge seat on their balcony, head laid back, exhausted from her ordeal. “He apologized for putting us into yet another ridiculously dangerous situation and gave us the rest of the week off.”

“And they’re paying for this room?” It was a very nice room. He looked down to the beach, which they could see from their fourteenth floor balcony in Miami, the just-rising sun reflecting off the surface of the ocean.

“I told him since we weren’t undercover anymore we needed two rooms. He said, and I quote, ‘Don’t press your luck, Agent Mulder.’”

“He’s shameless,” she chuckled, and eyed him carefully. “A week off. Are you going to be okay with that?”

He knew what she meant. In the past he hadn’t been a fan of time off of any sort. But she was his first priority now and he wanted her to know the truth of it.

“I’m more than okay with it, Scully,” he grinned, crouching down, taking her hand and kissing it.

“We get to stay here for the rest of the week, then? On the government’s dime and everything?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, we have to head home tomorrow. But he booked us on first class again.”

“Tomorrow,” she said playfully, tapping her fingertips against her chin. “That’s an entire day away.”

“That it is,” he grinned. He unraveled some gauze from the roll he was holding, tearing it with his teeth. “Let me get those, okay?”

She extended her wrists out to him, red and raw from the restraints. He applied a salve and wrapped them gently, then did the same to her ankles. She thanked him and settled back into her lounge chair, looking down at him.

“How are you, Scully? Are you feeling like yourself again?” He was certain the moment they left the Excelsior Keys he had her back, and he felt whatever was inside him leave as well, but he wanted to make sure.

“Do you mean… am I going to deny I saw anything at all, and tell you you’re crazy?”

“Something like that,” he laughed.

“No, I’m not going to do that,” she said. She reached to her bare neck and held her hand against her throat. “My cross, Mulder…it was burning my skin. I _felt_ it.” She shook her head. “In that moment, maybe I really did believe it.”

“What happened back there, with Roman? You really think he was innocent?”

“I do,” she said. “I think he loved his wife so much, but he couldn’t save her. So he spent his life trying to save others. To his own detriment.” She looked over at him meaningfully. “It felt very familiar, honestly.”

He nodded. It did feel a bit like him, in a way. Chasing after the unchaseable. Leaving chaos and destruction in his wake. He wasn’t able to save Samantha and it still haunted him in a way. Just one more demon that needed to be cast out.

“This entire case felt familiar, Scully. Remember that creature… whatever it was back in Los Angeles all those years back?” Mulder shook his head. “Now I know what it must have felt like for that officer. And the others.”

“Do you think this… could be the same thing?” Scully asked, suddenly curious.

“Doubt it,” Mulder said. “Whatever it was is confined within the walls of that hotel. Besides,” he grinned. “No full moon.”

“Why do you think Margie did it, Mulder? I mean, why did she do it to me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know why, other than… she wanted to scare people. Maybe that’s what those photos were about, catching people in a state of fear. Maybe she just manipulated that fear. Everyone fears something. Hodges was afraid of the hotel. Alyse said she was afraid of the movie.”

“And… I’m afraid of losing you again,” she said quietly.

He was surprised by the honesty and transparency of her words. Regardless of their cohabitation falling apart and the romantic aspect of their relationship becoming too difficult to sustain, he never doubted her care and deep love for him. But the idea that losing him was her greatest fear and had in fact manifested itself in front of his eyes affected him in a way he couldn’t explain. And he knew that when Margie had directed the force at him, he felt the very same fear. It was comforting, in a way.

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet, Scully… when I was down there, with Margie, I felt the same thing you did. I was so terrified of losing you it was physically painful.”

She looked at him with an understanding they both needed to come to. Everything they’d talked about, all the truths they’d uncovered in their counseling session were evidence that simply splitting up hadn’t worked for the two of them. Something was still here between them and they knew it. They were bound forever. Both their fears of losing that bond was only further confirmation there was hope for them.

“Thank you for telling me that, Mulder,” she said softly. “As much as I hate the idea of anyone going through what I did, it’s an odd relief to know it’s something we share.” She took his hand in hers. “Remember when I told you in the car a couple days ago that I was afraid? Of what was happening with us, this tidal wave?” she said. He nodded. “Well, I think if this experience has taught me anything it's that I shouldn’t be so afraid. Of this, of seeing where it could go.”

“You mean... it’s an irrational fear?” he winked.

She grinned, then looked at him seriously. “I’m not afraid anymore to tell you that losing you is the worst thing I can think of.”

It was the kind of thing she only had to tell him with her eyes, but he was glad to hear her say it all the same.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that, okay?” he said softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. She nodded, smiling, and he thought for a moment. “Why do you like _The Exorcist_ so much, Scully? It’s a little dark for you, isn’t it?”

“It’s not, actually,” she said, to his surprise. “It’s about unwavering compassion and sacrifice. Good triumphing over evil.”

“Huh. I never really thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right.”

“Did I ever tell you I avoided that movie for a good portion my life?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Why?”

She shrugged. “I was afraid of it. When I was a child I believed all this was real. The devil, demons, all of it. As I grew up I started to doubt, but I was still afraid to watch the movie, almost as if letting these images into my mind would make them real.”

“What made you change your mind about watching it?” he asked.

She thought for a moment. “I think... I recognized that not watching it, avoiding it, made it more terrifying. Facing it was really the only thing I could do to lessen that fear.”

It was the perpetual enigma of Dana Scully, her ability to compartmentalize her beliefs, to reserve different levels of skepticism for different things. It drove him crazy at times but it was what made her Scully, what made her the person he loved.

“When I finally watched it, all the things I’d been scared of had been so overplayed in my mind I was practically immune to them. I was able to focus on what a beautiful film it was, how carefully crafted it was. I kept going back for more, finding more things to love about it. Suddenly it was my favorite movie. I don’t even remember acknowledging it as such. It just… was.”

“What made you want to tell me this now?”

“Because, Mulder… it made me think about my feelings for you.”

He was momentarily taken aback, but he had to admit it was the way she operated. Slow to the point of madness. She probably had to convince herself to love him, every part of him, all his flaws and darkness and the things she would normally be repelled by. She probably avoided examining her own feelings about him for so long, that once she did, it made sense to him that she would draw a similar conclusion.

“Every rational instinct in my brain told me for years you were not the guy for me. It made no sense. But my heart was telling me otherwise. And rather than examine it, I avoided it. As you’re well aware.”

He grinned. Oh, he was aware.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, Mulder, is… I want to do things differently this time. With you.”

The tiny flame of hope that had been burning inside him for the past few days grew larger in this moment. Something about this felt different. Something had changed.

“What do you mean, Scully?”

Her eyes were soft and full of the love he knew had always been there. “I don’t want to be afraid. I want to start over. Really start over.”

He’d been waiting for her to give him something, anything, for months. For years, in fact. It was the first time she’d verbally acknowledged she was interested in getting back together with him, and even moving slowly was moving in the right direction.

“From the beginning?”

“Well, hopefully not that far back. We aren’t getting any younger, Mulder.”

“That I know,” he grinned. “But even if we were, I’d wait for you.” He felt his own eyes soften. “I’d wait forever if you asked me to, Scully.”

He wasn’t used to being so transparent with his feelings. But she was right, they certainly weren’t getting any younger. And he had nothing to lose.

She nodded, smiling, and he set her leg down on the ground, her wounds properly dressed. She leaned forward to ruffle his hair, and it felt right. This was real. They were about to take another step, a big step towards the ending he wanted. The ending that meant the two of them together again for good.

Her hand slid down to his cheek and he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It felt so wonderful whenever she touched him, like all the loneliness and emptiness surrounding him for the past few years was being released. Like they were casting out their owndemons, the demons of their past.

She sat up, kicking her legs over the side of the lounge seat and he rose up onto his knees, crawling in between her legs with his hands on her thighs. She leaned into him until their foreheads were touching.

“You know, Mulder… what happened in the shower yesterday?”

“I do know,” he grinned. “Thanks for that.”

“I just wanted to say, it’s nice to see you have as little control around me as I do around you.”

“And how,” he chuckled.

“I think, though…” she paused. “It might be wise for us to slow down. For now.”

“You mean… this whole _starting over_ thing.”

"Yes.”

He nodded. “That could work.”

Their foreheads were still resting against one another’s and her hands softly caressed his face, her thumbs tracing circles. His hands went around her waist, resting on her hip bones. He didn’t think it was possible to want to kiss her so badly. And just when he thought he might explode with longing she leaned in, wanting the same thing he did. Their lips met and every time they touched he felt the flame inside him get a little brighter.

She laughed into his mouth. “We’re terrible at this,” she admitted, then kissed him even harder. He laughed back and she pulled him onto the lounge chair, settling her legs on either side of his hips. He held her close, pulling her into his lap, until she was nestled in the warmth between his thighs.

“Maybe it can count as slowing down…” he said as he softly kissed her shoulder, “if we go really, _really_ slow.”

“What happens in the field stays in the field?” she grinned, parroting his own words back to him softly into his ear.

“Something like that.”

“Hey, Mulder?” She tilted her head back as he tasted the soft flesh of her neck. However they planned to slow down, he knew with eager anticipation he had her back, finally. They’d get there eventually.

“Mmm?”

“I’ve never properly appreciated the way you break the rules,” she said.

He grinned as he pushed the back of the lounge chair to lay flat, and she fell backwards, giggling. Her hands slid to the back of his neck and he closed his eyes, reveling in the soft touch of her fingers threading into his hair. They lived in the kiss for what felt like hours, The Kiss, again, the most important kiss they’d ever shared. Here they were again, and every time felt like a step closer to home.

After a few minutes she wrapped her calves around his waist and held onto his neck tightly, his cue to lift her up out of the lounge chair and carry her inside before they gave the other hotel guests a very public show.

As he laid her down on the bed, kissing her neck, she began to giggle.

“What is it?” he smiled.

“Nothing, it just tickles,” she said. His smile widened and he went in for more, the ability to draw out her laugh something he was so grateful to have once again. It echoed around the walls of the room as her legs squeezed him tighter.

“God, Scully, I missed that sound,” he admitted. “Almost more than anything else.”

“Really? More than anything?” she smirked. “Then maybe we should stop and put on _Caddyshack_ instead?”

“Or I can just keep doing this,” he said into her neck, lightly feathering it with kisses. It worked. The laugh poured forth like manna from heaven.

He stopped after a minute and pulled back, and she looked up into his eyes with a smile. 

“I’ve missed seeing you happy, Scully,” he said. “It’s been too long.”

“Me too,” she admitted, and he could only take that to mean she’d been as miserable as he had. As he leaned in to kiss her again he couldn’t contain his own smile. 

Once again he would remember this in flashes: his fingers tracing the curve of her back. Her narrowed eyes watching him through her cascading hair. The perfect arch in her back as she responded to his touch. The tiny beads of sweat pearling around her belly button after she screamed out his name.

And the way they fit together just the right way, and everything felt like it was clicking into place for them again, finally.

Most of all, he remembered her laugh. When she was happy, he was satisfied. When he was the one making her happy, he was king.

When it was over she lay with her head on his bicep, her leg thrown across his lap, and they both sighed contentedly.

“Scully?” he said after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Will you let me take you out to dinner?”

She didn’t say anything for a second, but he knew it was because she was smiling. Starting over could be fun.

“Yes, Mulder,” she said. “I can do that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. And feedback is always welcomed, a big thanks to everyone for leaving a comment or a kudos, it really means so much!
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, you might like [Mindblown](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326484/chapters/35559357), my other case fic. :)

**Author's Note:**

> To read my take on the Plus One sex, you can go [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810795/chapters/39093007). Not required reading, but if you're in the mood for some smut ;)


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